


Saving Sirius

by LittlePlumTree



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1727813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlePlumTree/pseuds/LittlePlumTree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of going home, Sirius walked the darkened streets of central London, dragging from a cigarette and hugging his arms to his chest to fend off the cold, until he found another bar. </p>
<p>This was it. This was Sirius’ life. Until one day, it wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saving Sirius

Sirius spent a lot of time in bars these days. Working in them, drinking in them, getting kicked out of them. He’d gotten his job as a barman in the dingy Muggle pub, he surmised, because he was handsome, and girls were more willing to hand over a few more pounds than the drink is worth if the person handing it to them is handsome. His fake ID said he was twenty two, a pretty far stretch from his actual seventeen, but dressed the way he was it wasn’t a hard lie to sell. A quick Confundus charm hadn’t gone amiss, either.

It’d been a long shift. The music was boring, the customers were verging on the too-drunk side of drunk, and he was tired. He knew his black t-shirt had ridden up, exposing his stomach as he reached for a bottle on a shelf, and he was about to tug it down when he saw a girl at the other end of the bar eying the bare skin hungrily. He left the shirt.

One of the greatest downfalls of the job, Sirius thought as he worked, was the boredom. In fact, Sirius found a good many things in life boring. When his shift was over, he didn’t go home. It wasn’t ‘home’ anyway, but a tiny apartment above an open all hours Laundromat in Muggle London, and he hated it. The only good part about it was that it was his, and not his parents’. If it was, it would have been pulled out from under him like the proverbial rug, along with his savings account, his home, and his family name. He’d known the Black family were all arseholes, but he’d assumed they were arseholes who would stick together. As soon as he’d moved out, albeit not under the best of terms, he’d been on his own. James had offered, and he’d accepted, the spare room at his house, and his family were brilliant, warm, inviting, but Sirius felt wrong. It wasn’t his. After 4 months and the final term of their 6th year at Hogwarts, Sirius had moved out.

So no, instead of going home, Sirius walked the darkened streets of central London, dragging from a cigarette and hugging his arms to his chest to fend off the cold, until he found another bar. He’d been to this one before, open later than the one he worked in, but otherwise just like the rest. He drank alone on a barstool until he couldn’t quite see straight. 

As he was walking out, a blond guy in a leather jacket shoulder-checked him, and Sirius didn’t think twice before turning and shoving him right back. The guy turned and grinned, and Sirius thought, objectively, he wasn’t bad looking. 

“Looking for a fight, mate?” the guy said.

Sirius punched him square in the jaw. 

He was kicked out, bloodied and bruised on his lip and eye, ribs aching and knuckles sore. He felt good. He’d heal them when he got home. Maybe. 

The next day he slept until 2 in the afternoon, and then rolled out of bed and checked the fridge. It hadn’t magically refilled since the day before. He glanced at his wand sitting uselessly on the bench top, and sighed, then poured himself a glass of water, which tasted slightly coppery but no more than usual, and tried to ignore his rumbling stomach. With nothing better to do he pulled on one of the cleaner t-shirts on his floor, a pair of jeans and his old Muggle combat boots, and went downstairs to the Laundromat. He hoisted himself up to sit on one of the dryers and watched the little TV in the corner, showing Muggles riding horses around a giant track. 

After a while, the announcer’s voice and the bright colours of the riders’ clothing were giving Sirius a mild headache. Or maybe that was the hangover. 

At three, an old woman came in and eyed Sirius suspiciously before coming over and saying, 

“Young man, would you get off my dryer?”

Sirius slid off it and rolled his eyes. The races were getting boring anyway. He pulled a face at the old lady’s back and wandered outside and along the tired, grey concrete of the London street. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared up, the sky cloudy and bored, seeming to stare down at him with a morbid kind of amusement. Sirius turned and went home. 

At five, he went to work. After a six hour shift he wandered aimlessly towards home, and then, realizing it was the last place he wanted to be, and feeling the familiar clench of his hungry stomach, he slipped into an alleyway. 

A few seconds later, a big black dog emerged and trotted off down the street. In the early hours of tomorrow, the dog would return to the alley, hunger satisfied from the garbage cans and back doors of restaurants that filled the lonely city, and Sirius would walk slowly back to his apartment, stand under the luke-warm stream of water he didn’t have the heart to call a shower, and then fall into bed.

This was it. This was Sirius’ life. Until one day, it wasn’t. 

 

He was asleep when the harsh knock on the door came. It only half woke him, and he lay awake wondering why he’d woken before one in the afternoon.

The knock came again, and Sirius had no idea who the ever-loving fuck would be knocking on his door at, what, ten in the morning? 

He threw himself out of bed and scrubbed a hand over his face. Tugging on last night’s jeans, a third knock came at the door.

“Fuck, alright, I’m coming,” Sirius growled, and he crossed the tiny room and threw open the door.

Leaning against the doorframe grinning at him, was James.

Sirius tried to stay cross, he really did. 

“Hello,” James said, and Sirius just grabbed him in a strangling hug and yanked James through the door.   
“Steady on, anyone’d think you’d missed me,” James laughed, hugging Sirius back, and Sirius didn’t say anything. He had, of course. Missed him.

James pulled away and squinted through his glasses at Sirius. “Mate, you look awful. Are you hungover?”

Sirius, who basically lived in a permanent state of hungover, shook his head. And winced a little.   
“Got any food?” James asked, stepping into the tiny kitchen and yanking open a couple of cupboards. 

Sirius let him hope for a few seconds and open a few more cupboards before he said, “No. Do you?”  
James stopped opening cupboards and made a show of patting his pockets, then looked distressed. “I could’ve sworn I had a roast chicken in here somewhere?”

Sirius snorted and pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. 

“Well, do you have any tea?” James pulled open another cupboard and made a happy noise as he spotted a tin of tea leaves. He took them down and opened the jar. His nose wrinkled and he put the lid back on. “I don’t think that’s tea.” 

Sirius didn’t say anything. Sighing, James looked around, noticed Sirius smoking, and frowned. Sirius didn’t look at him. “What’s wrong with your lip? Were you in a fight?”

“No,” Sirius lied, and James raised his eyebrows. 

“We’re going shopping, come on.” 

James started towards the door, but Sirius said quietly, “No money.”

James turned and looked at Sirius, and then he looked around the tiny apartment, and at the tin of not-tea, then back at Sirius, standing shirtless in his black jeans with his stupid long hair falling over his face, and the most ashamed expression on his face that James had ever seen on him, and James felt the sudden urge to cry.

He didn’t, though. 

He sat down on the faded sofa and it squeaked under him. He looked once more at the peeling wallpaper, the scuffed wooden floor, the dirty window and the door with 3 bolts and a chain. 

“Sirius, can I stay with you?”

When James looked round, Sirius was eying him cautiously. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Because you’re my mate and I want to spend time with you before we have to go back to school.”

“You spend time with me at school, Prongs, we live in the same room.”

James grinned. “Great, so this won’t be anything new then.” 

Sirius still didn’t look convinced. “Your parents didn’t throw you out too, did they?” 

James threw his head back and laughed, “No, they didn’t. Hey, or, you could move back into my place?”

Sirius was shaking his head before he’d even finished the sentence.

“No, you know I won’t do that.” James knew. Sirius was insufferably proud. 

“Okay then, so I move in, I sleep on the couch, or I’ll buy a mattress or something, and we split the rent, and the food, and I’ll find a job. It’ll be fun, mate, come on don’t look so scared.”

Sirius was still looking unsure, and James suddenly had a thought that hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Oh, uh, unless you’d rather live alone. I don’t wanna barge in on a good thing, I mean I thought you might be lonely, but I know sometimes it’s good to have your own space.”

Shaking his head again, Sirius let slip a half smile that reminded James of the Sirius that used to be, the one that would laugh easily and talk willingly and wouldn’t hold out on James.

“James, how long have you known me?”

“A very fucking long time, Padfoot.”

“So if you tell me this isn’t just a plan to… I don’t know, save me? This isn’t just your way of giving me money and making sure I don’t go off the deep end, then yeah. Welcome home.”

James nodded, and opened his mouth, then shut it again. He wasn’t going to lie. But he wasn’t going to tell Sirius he was right, either. So he just leant his head back on the couch, and grinned at his friend.

“Great, then I’ll get my stuff. Fancy a train ride?”

 

The train ride from Central London to James’ family home wasn’t a long one. James bought the tickets and ignored Sirius’ protests that if they went tomorrow, he could pay for his own, and they boarded the train. 

It was nowhere as fancy as the Hogwarts Express, and crammed with Muggles, and the boys had to stand. Sirius’ hand kept creeping back to his pocket where his wand was tucked into the back of his shirt, and enjoying the feeling of having it on him. He’d given up taking it with him to work, or out of his flat at all. He didn’t have a need for it, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. 

James was shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking around the carriage, smiling at old ladies and moving over to let people pass. Sirius stared straight ahead, eyes glued to a poster on the side of the train that said ‘Keep an eye on your bag’. 

A woman with a perm and a shopping bag was also looking at the poster, and Sirius glanced at her, and then deliberately looked down at her bags and gave her a menacing grin. The lady got up and moved further along the carriage. Sirius could feel James looking at him, and he ignored it.

The train ground to a halt at their stop and the boys made their way to the door, James “excuse me”-ing his way along and Sirius just trailing in his wake. He caught the eye of perm-lady again, and she gave him a death glare that would rival his mother’s. Sirius smiled his most disarming smile and jumped blithely down off the train. 

“We walking then?” Sirius asked, and James nodded unhappily. 

“If it was dark we could fly, but it won’t be dark for a couple of hours, and I don’t fancy hanging round the station.”

They started walking along the gravel path away from the station, Sirius deliberately scuffing his feet and sending pebbles into the grass. When they reached the tarmac road James turned and drew his wand, giving it a slight flick that sent the stones on the grass back onto the path. Sirius growled.

“Sirius, your Padfoot is showing,” James reprimanded, and Sirius just fumed silently.

After a second, he said, “Why do you always feel you have to clean up my messes?”

“Why do you always feel you have to make messes?” James shot back.

Sirius didn’t know.

They walked for a few minutes in silence. Sirius broke it eventually. 

“How’s Lily?”

James smiled. “She’s great. We’re great. Well, she doesn’t hate me, so yeah we’re great.”

Sirius bit back a smile. “Probably doesn’t hurt that you’re head boy next year.”

James laughed, shaking his head. “You could have been, you know.”

“What, with Lily?” Sirius looked at him, confused.

“Head boy. You could’ve been. You’re clever enough, people like you, if you’d tried a little harder not to piss of the teachers-”

“Prongs, how many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t want to be Head Boy. I don’t want to stop pissing off the teachers, I don’t especially want people to like me, and I don’t overly yearn to be the pinnacle of aspiration for the young impressionable dears at Hogwarts. Believe me, I’m not cut out to be a leader.”

James sighed. “You could lead, Sirius. I’d follow you.”

A wry smile played over Sirius lips and he raised an eyebrow. “Good thing I’m not asking you to follow then, isn’t it.”

Unsure quite what he meant, James didn’t say anything else. They were rounding the bend in the quiet road, with the weatherboard houses and red-roofed letter boxes, and coming up to the gateway into the wizarding world that would take them almost to the front door of the Potter house. They turned down a small side street that ended in a brick wall, and James drew his wand. He tapped the bricks, and they slid apart, and the boys stepped through, and immediately felt a sort of relief. 

James looked sideways at Sirius, and could see on his face that he felt it too. The Wizarding world held a magic of its own that wasn’t tangible, wasn’t anything anyone could put their finger on, but they could all feel it. Sirius could feel it, having spent so long away from it, living in his dingy flat with his wand finding an almost permanent residence on his kitchen counter. The colours were brighter, the air cleaner, and Sirius felt a sort of bubble of joy in his chest that he was almost ashamed of. James just raised one corner of his mouth in a half-smile, and didn’t say anything. 

They crossed the street and walked for a couple of minutes down it, coming to a halt outside a tall, white-weather boarded house with a blue door. Sirius felt an ache. James started up the steps and he followed, trailing James into the house and breathing in deep the smell of, there was no other way to put it, wealth and comfort. James’ family were purebloods, and while they didn’t have the same pretentious exhibition of the fact that Sirius’ family did, they didn’t deny themselves the luxury of their status. Floors were laid with thick cream carpet, walls painted a tasteful deep red, the wooden stair rail gleaming as if just polished. 

Mrs Potter, hearing the door, appeared in the archway to the living room and her face broke out in a smile. She was wearing her usual knee length dark skirt and cream blouse, hair pinned on top of her head, coming loose at the sides. Maybe Sirius was imagining it, but her face seemed more lined than he remembered. He’d never liked to entertain the thought that people got old. Sirius thought to himself that if he had the choice, he would never get old.

“Sirius!” Mrs Potter cried, and then frowned. “My, you look thin, and when was the last time you had a haircut?” 

“Mum, don’t start on him. Are you cooking dinner?” James interjected.

“Really James, think about something else other than your stomach for a change. So… are you moving back in, love?” This was directed at Sirius, who looked guiltily at James for help.

“Uh, Sirius, do you want a decent shower? The one in the flat looked fairly useless, so…” 

Sirius jumped at the offer, and shot James a grateful smile. “Yeah, that’d be great, should I…” he motioned to the stairs and James nodded. 

“Mum, I uh, want to talk to you about some stuff. Also, seriously, is dinner cooking? I’m a growing boy.”

Mrs Potter sighed and turned, James following her back into the kitchen. Sirius took off up the stairs. 

He knew the inside of this house almost better than his own, and ran his hand over the ornamental handrail-end shaped like a lion, and looked around. Nothing had changed in the few weeks he’d been gone. He opened the door to the bathroom and slipped inside, quickly yanking his t-shirt over his head and dropping it to the cool floor. He toed off his boots and wriggled out of his jeans, then turned the shower on and let the cold water fall over his hand until it ran warm. 

Stepping under the steady flow of almost scalding water was, for Sirius, almost a religious experience. 

He’d been away from this house, he worked out, for almost a month. 

He’d first moved in with James back in April, first week of the Easter holidays. He’d marched out the door of his family home and he hadn’t looked back. He’d shown up on James’ doorstep with a trunk and an expression as black as his name after that final fight with his parents, and the Potter’s had welcomed him in. 

Sirius remembered being surprised, so surprised, that anyone that wasn’t his kin would want him around like the Potters had. James and Sirius had come as a double act since the first week of their first year, and it’d been that way ever since. Remus and Peter completed their close group, and Sirius tried to push the thought that he hadn’t seen these two in very much too long, to the back of his mind.

The shower was cascading down his shoulders and washing away the feeling of dread that had been lingering in Sirius’ bones since he’d moved out of this house. He’d known, then, like he knew now, that it was the right thing to do. He’d just been a little more optimistic of his chances back then.

Now that James would be with him, though, Sirius was gradually feeling better. He wasn’t going to kid himself that it was solely because he’d missed James. That was a big part of it, but the idea that he wouldn’t need to pay the whole rent, buy all the food, spend his time watching races on a dryer in the Laundromat, were what he was clinging to desperately, as though they’d slip away when he wasn’t looking.

He stayed in the shower for at least 10 minutes. He knew it wouldn’t run cold, but out of common courtesy he reluctantly turned it off. That should have been enough time for James to talk to his parents.

The towels on the heated rail next to the shower were soft and warm and huge, and Sirius wrapped himself in one and felt, suddenly, as though he was 6 years old again. He sat down on the edge of the bath and hugged himself in his fleecy cocoon, and squeezed his eyes shut. 

He didn’t deny the way he lived was a little fucked up. It wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t particularly sanity-inducing, but he sort of enjoyed it. At least, he thought he enjoyed it. Freedom and no rules and as much alcohol as he could drink, but it only went so far. It had been a long time since he’d hugged anyone, felt someone’s hand in his, fallen asleep with his head on someone else’s shoulder. 

James’ voice outside the door pulled Sirius out of himself. “Pads? You alright in there?”

“Yeah, fine, just… enjoying your towels.”

There was a short silence. “That better not be a euphemism.”

Sirius barked out a laugh and got up. “It’s not, they really are great towels. How’d the talk go?”

“They’ve agreed, surprisingly. I mean, they’re reluctant, but as long as we come here for dinner once a week they’re fine with it.”

Sirius grinned to himself. Dinner with the Potters once a week wasn’t exactly a hardship. 

“Brilliant,” he replied, and James echoed it on the other side of the door.

“Yeah, brilliant.”

Sirius could hear his smile.

He toweled himself down and dressed again, then leapt down the stairs two at a time. When he strolled through into the living room, Mrs Potter gave him a smile and shook her head. “I’ve missed that thundering noise every time you came down those stairs.” 

She patted one of the dining table seats, and Sirius looked warily at her, and the scissors that were un-subtly sitting on the dining table.

“Oh don’t look like that, it’s only a haircut.”

“Mum, maybe Sirius doesn’t want a haircut…”

“Nonsense, of course he does. Come on, dear.”

Sirius really couldn’t say no after that, so he let himself be propelled into the chair by James’ mum, and watched with sadness as chunks of his hair fell to the floor. By the time she was done, Sirius felt almost bald. On closer inspection in the hall mirror, he found it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared, but it was still very much shorter than before. 

When he came back into the room, Mrs Potter was levitating the fallen hair into the bin. It looked like quite a lot.

“You could make a cat with that,” James pointed out, and Sirius choked on a laugh.

“Please don’t,” he coughed. 

 

They ended up staying for dinner, talking easily round the big dining room table. Mr Potter, a tall, regal looking man who’s imposing image was let down only by his hair, which stood up in tufts no matter how he raked it down, talked about work at the ministry. Mrs Potter talked about the scandal in the inner circles of the pureblood families. The Blacks didn’t come up, Sirius was pleased to note.

They asked Sirius where he was working. A bookstore, he told them. James hid a smirk in a mouthful of potato. 

“Remus would like that,” Mrs Potter said, and Sirius nodded politely. There isn’t a lot Remus would like about his life, Sirius thought. That made him a little sad, actually.

Remus had always been Sirius’ moral epitome. He was a good student, was always neat and tidy, was basically everything Sirius wasn’t. And he had no idea why they had been drawn to each other, him to the quiet, sensitive 11 year old in the bed next to his, or why that shy little boy had followed him and James to class every day, watched the terrible pranks they played on their professors, and still let them copy his homework. Without Remus, he wouldn’t have Padfoot. He missed Remus. 

By the time dinner was over it was dark, and the Potters wouldn’t hear of letting James and Sirius fly back to London. 

“I’ll take you in the morning,” Mr Potter had insisted. “We can floo to Diagon Alley and cross to Muggle London there.”

So that was that, and later Sirius sank into the mattress of the giant double bed in the guest room, wearing a pair of James’ pajamas and feeling, for not the first time that day, tiny. He fell asleep curled into a ball on the far side of the big bed, and when Mrs Potter put her head around the door to check on him, she felt a lump in her throat to look at the tall, atrociously wild-minded boy, with the dark hair and the strong mind curled around himself, and she silently cursed anyone who’d ever be so stupid as to think that Sirius Black was in any way less vulnerable than anyone else.

 

The morning brought sun, with a restless wind and a sense of expectation. “A day for doing things,” Mr Potter announced as he laced up his shoes. Sirius shoved his feet into his combat boots and grinned at Mrs Potter’s look of distaste. 

A shout from the stairwell above caused Sirius to jump aside as a trunk hurtled down the stairs, but Mrs Potter raised her wand carelessly and brought the trunk to an abrupt halt before it could crash down the final step. Sirius didn’t want to guess at how many times she’d had to do that.

Looking up, they could see James grimacing over the bannister. “Sorry…”

After 3 hugs each from Mrs Potter, the boys and Mr Potter stepped into the floo and reemerged in Diagon Alley. Sirius grinned around him at the busy street, and felt a different sense of ‘home.’ A witch with a cat perched on her shoulder shouldered past them, and the cat glared menacingly at Sirius. Sirius barked. The cat’s look of shock, he decided, was the highlight of his day.

Mr Potter had set off at a jaunty pace along the street, the crowds seeming to part for his tall figure as he walked. Sirius watched in awe for a moment, and then he tried it. He promptly walked into a small witch with goggle-like glasses and bright blue hair. She opened her eyes very wide behind the lenses and raised her hands, wiggling her fingers downwards towards Sirius’ head, without saying a word. Sirius looked around him awkwardly, and saw James laughing so hard he was having to hold on to a lamppost. 

The witch scurried off, and Sirius hurriedly turned to follow Mr Potter.

He was headed towards the imposing shape of Gringotts. The boys followed him up the grand steps and into the bank, suddenly quiet compared to Diagon Alley outside. Mr Potter headed towards one of the goblins and spoke quietly.  
“We would like the change some money into Muggle currency,” he said politely.

The goblin looked at him menacingly, but then held out a hand. Mr Potter gestured to James, who fumbled with a money bag in one of his pockets before tentatively handing it over. The goblin snatched it and jumped down from his desk and disappeared from view.

They waited in silence for a few minutes before the goblin came back and handed the money bag back to James. Mr Potter took it from him and checked the contents, and then thanked the goblin. 

Sirius walked hurriedly out of the bank ahead of the Potters. It gave him the creeps.

“I don’t know anything about Muggle money, Sirius,” James confided. “How do you do it?”  
Sirius didn’t tell him he didn’t know either, on the rare occasions he had to pay for something he just handed over a few notes and coins and let the person taking it work it out. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

They kept steady pace through Diagon Alley, reaching the crossing into Muggle London after a few minutes’ walk. Mr Potter went first. He noticeably wrinkled his nose as the bland grey landscape of the city met his eyes. 

“Never been fond of London,” he sniffed. Sirius almost felt ashamed. He quite liked it.

He felt even more ashamed when the three of them stood together in the narrow doorway of his flat, and Mr Potter went quiet. Eventually, he shook his head, and then smiled at James. “I won’t tell your mother.”

He left soon after, leaving Sirius and James to sit dejectedly on the tiny sofa.

“So. What do you do all day?” James asked.

“I have work, and sometimes I go downstairs and watch the races on telly. And sometimes I go out, drink, have fun and the likes.”

“Yeah, I mean it’s the middle of the 70s, I’ve heard all the stories,” James tried, but Sirius just huffed a laugh.

“Muggles are strange, James. You should hear their music. And if I’m honest, half the stuff they’re ingesting is worse than magic.”

James looked sideways at him. “You mean… Not that I know, but… like, drugs?”

“Yeah, mate. Drugs.”

There was a short silence.

“But you’ve never done that, aye mate?”

“No,” Sirius lied.

 

Sirius came straight home from work that night, unlike almost every other night he’d been in the city, to find James sprawled out on the sofa. The dim ceiling light was on but James was dead to the world. His wand lay on the floor beside him and Sirius picked it up and placed it on the small arm of the couch, and then flicked off the big light. Not that it was casting much of a glow to begin with, but the bare bulb made him feel naked and vulnerable in the dingy little flat.

He cast a Lumos and then set his own wand down on his bed, providing a little light to see by, and undressed. James didn’t stir, so Sirius slipped into his bed, muttered “Nox,” and then, “Night Prongs.”

 

That night, it rained. Sirius flat, he had discovered a long time ago, leaked. He knew it was fixable, he just didn’t have the motivation to find the right charm. Besides, the “drip, drip, drip” of the water hitting the floor was soothing.

James didn’t think so, though, and half an hour after he woke to discover the leak, he was standing on the flat’s only chair, wand pointed at the offending corner, and trying every charm he knew to close up the gap.

Sirius sighed. “Remus would know.”

James nodded, and then the chair broke. 

After a short, surprised pause, Sirius said quietly, “I liked that chair,” and James almost cried with laughter. 

He gathered up the pieces and put them in a pile beside the couch, and pointed his wand. “Repairo!” he tried, but the chair didn’t repair-o. “Yeah, didn’t think so. I’ll find a better charm. Why did you like that chair anyway, it’s ugly.”

It was painted a sickly green with a high back and painted flowers on the seat. It was ugly. That was why Sirius liked it. 

“What do you wanna do today?” Sirius asked, lighting a cigarette and breathing in deeply.

“I want to find a job,” James announced, standing and taking the cigarette out of Sirius’ mouth and putting it in his own. Sirius raised an eyebrow and lit another one.

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Maybe I’ll make Remus proud and work in a bookstore.” He blew a long plume of smoke out of his mouth and tilted his head back, eyed closed. 

Sirius snorted. “Good luck, mate. There isn’t much going.”

“Yeah, but not everyone else has my natural charm and good looks.”

No, Sirius thought, thank god. He looked out the dirty window into the street, puddles shining on its surface, but the sky was clearing. 

So they left the apartment and clattered down the wooden stairs to the sidewalk. They walked down the street, looking into store windows as they came to them. The first one they tried was a second hand television store. 

“James, you don’t even know how to turn a telly on.” 

James’ expression didn’t waver, and he flapped a hand and scoffed. “How hard can that be?”

Reasonably hard, James conceded, as they left the shop a few minutes later. As the hour wore on and still more and more shops turned down James’ ‘natural charm and good looks’, Sirius was feeling both triumphant that he’d been right, and kind of sorry for his friend. 

They admitted defeat around lunch time and turned to go home. Sirius paused at a crossing, but instead of crossing the road he turned left, dragging James by the sleeve after him. He had seen, and been instantly drawn to, something that was parked outside a tiny garage a little way along the road. 

James hung back and watched as his friend walked as though in a trance towards a gleaming motorcycle, and ran his hands over the seat and the handle bars, transfixed. James coughed and Sirius snapped his head up to see a rotund man with a grizzly looking beard and a worn plaid button-up coming towards him. Sirius withdrew his hands guiltily, but the man grinned at him, face wrinkled up with the smile. 

“Aye, now, it’s alright, she’s a beauty ain’t she?”

Sirius nodded, swallowing. “Yours?”

The man chuckled and nodded. “For sale, though.”

Sirius’ eyes widened, and even James stepped a little closer.

“Aye, but she’s broke. Won’t go. I just polish her up so people take an interest, like. Ain’t nothing too badly wrong, just can’t get the parts, y’see.”

Sirius nodded, again eyes trained on the sleek brown polish of the bike. He almost daren’t ask.

“How- how much?”

The man eyed him carefully, took in the wide eyes and the hand still stroking the dark leather seat, and he said, “She’s £2000 new…”

Sirius’ whole face dropped. There was no way he could afford that, never in a million years, so he just nodded.

The man wasn’t finished, though. “But like I said, I can’t ge’ the parts. She’s useless without th’ parts.” 

He waited, holding Sirius’ gaze. “You think you can get them?”

Sirius nodded surely. This man may have tried his best, but this man didn’t carry a wand.

“You fell in love with ‘er, soon as you saw ‘er,” the man said good-naturedly.

Sirius nodded, but then he grimaced, “To be honest, sir, no matter what you could offer me I’d find it hard to pay. I’m not too well off.”

The man guffawed and shook his head. “Who is these days, lad? Do you have a job?”

“I work nights in a pub,” Sirius said, and the man nodded. 

“Noble work, young man, noble work. And how about yer days, what’s fillin’ them?”

Sirius shook his head, “Nothing. I mean, I usually sleep.”

Again the man threw back his head and laughed, and then reached up a hand to rub at his jaw. 

“What’s yer name?”

“Sirius. Black- Sirius Black.”

A grin curved the man’s mouth upwards. “Black, Sirius Black, you come and work for me, and you pay off that bike when you can, and you can ‘ave ‘er for three hundred.”

Sirius felt dizzy.

He looked at James, who was just standing with his arms folded, grinning from ear to ear and shaking his head. Then he looked back at the man, and still not knowing what to say, he just held out his hand. The man took it, and shook it firmly.

“Name’s Barney, and you can start tomorrow, Black Sirius Black.”

Sirius practically skipped home, with James jogging to keep up as Sirius zigzagged his way along the sidewalk, shaking his head and grinning, and saying, “James, oh my god, James,” over and over again.

James grinned at him and sighed. “We were meant to be finding me a job, how did you come away with another one?”

Sirius pulled a ‘let-me-think’ face, and then said, “Must be my natural charm and good looks.” James punched him in the arm.

They stopped in a little fish n chip shop and James bought a bundle of hot chips, which they tore a hole in the packet of and pulled out one by one as they walked home. They were hot enough to scald the roofs of their mouths, so they ate slow. Sirius didn’t mind. It was the best meal he’d had in weeks.

Pushing open the door to the little flat, Sirius glanced at the little clock ticking determinedly away above the sink and pushed his hair back from his forehead.

“I have to go to work tonight, do you wanna come and check out the bar? You don’t have to stay, but there’s a pool table, and a jukebox…” He realized how lame he was making it sound, but James was nodding agreement. 

So when Sirius changed into one of his tighter white t-shirts and left the apartment that evening, James came with him.

The pub was open all day, but it only got busy later. Sirius took over the shift from a young girl with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, pouffed at the front and with a bow tied around the elastic. Sirius gave her a smile as he came in, and she sighed and threw the teatowel she’d been holding over her shoulder. 

“Heya, Sirius.” 

“Alright, Nancy?”

“God, has it been dull today,” the girl rolled her eyes, and James sat down at one of the little round tables near the bar, and watched as Sirius took the tea towel and wiped it down. The girl watched him work, and if James wasn’t mistaken, her eyes strayed down to his behind at least twice. She caught him looking and instead of going red or pretending she hadn’t been looking, she winked. James, surprised, grinned at her.

“Right, catch you tomorrow then,” she said to Sirius, who nodded a vague,

“See ya, Nance.”

James waited a minute after she left, and then got up and leant on the bar. “’Nance’? Mate, she was checking you out.”

“I know,” was Sirius’ reply. 

“Well, she’s cute…” James tried, and Sirius just looked at him blankly.

“She’s Muggle.”

James sighed, and Sirius continued. “Besides, half the fun is when they don’t like you back. You can vouch for that, can’t you?” He grinned and James rolled his eyes.

He wandered around the little pub, taking in the wooden paneling of the walls and scuffed red carpet, and the tacky velvet curtains at the window. The tables were polished, though, and the jukebox had some good tracks, according to James’ little knowledge of Muggle music, and it smelled like alcohol and age. He liked it.

By the time James had requested three songs on the jukebox and lost two games of pool, the bar was packed. James found it hard to move, and Sirius looked run off his feet, hair messy from having his hands run through it so often, so James nabbed a seat at the bar and asked him for whatever drink was the least trouble to make. Sirius handed him a beer.

“Is it usually this busy?” James asked him, and he nodded. 

“’Round about. The crowd changes every night. Fridays are the worst, Mondays are usually pretty good. This is about a regular Tuesday.”

“And you get Sundays off?”

“Yeah, Nancy does Sundays,” Sirius replied as he deftly poured two mugs of beer and plonked them down on the bar and flicking the money into the till. 

James waited another hour, people watching and chatting to Sirius when he could until the crowd was beginning to go down and he had finished his beer. Sirius was leaning on the bar counting some notes, and James yawned. 

“What time are you done here?” he asked, and Sirius pulled a face. 

“Ten, so another hour or so. Go home, make some tea. Oh, wait we don’t have any. Uh, make some water.” 

James huffed a laugh and nodded.

“See you at home then,” and shoving his hands in his pockets he sauntered out of the bar.

‘Home’ Sirius thought. Yeah, it felt like it now. 

As soon as James got in, he wrote a letter.

 

Sirius let himself into the dark flat a little after ten to find James asleep, not on the couch, but in his bed. He snorted and toed off his shoes, crossed the living room into the little bedroom, then slipped into the bed by James’ feet. 

James shifted and then said sleepily, “Aren’t we a bit old to top and tail, Pads?”

“Should have thought about that before you fell asleep in my bed”, Sirius said, and gave his arm a kick just for good measure.

 

Sirius awoke to sun streaming through his window, and the feeling of a foot shoved hard up against his ribcage.

He groaned. “James, you’ve gotta get yourself a bed.”

James yawned hugely and then hid his head under the pillow. Sirius’s pillow.

Sirius clambered out of bed, making sure to shake it as much as possible, and went through into the tiny bathroom. He turned on the shower and the pipes groaned unhappily as the water drizzled through them. Sirius knew how they felt. 

He leaned against the sink and let his mind wander to the motorcycle. That glorious motorcycle with the gleaming hazel-gold body and the leather seat. Soon, his motorcycle. He wondered how long it would take him to work off three hundred pounds. Depends on what Barney was willing to pay, he mused. He knew a little about mechanics, he’d read magazines and watched in awe the telly programs on race cars, and he knew he was clever. He’d pick it up.

He showered fast, reluctant to stand under the pathetic stream of water for longer than he needed to. He passed James on the way out, still sleeping, and he gave him a slap on the shoulder and said, “Off to the garage, home later.” 

He walked out into the street with, for a change, a sense of purpose, feet scuffing the concrete in his boots and eyes squinting against the morning sun. He found a dollar in his pocket and stopped at a little bakery he passed and bought a sandwich, which he finished just before rounding the corner of the street the garage was on. He tossed the paper bag onto the curb, and then feeling bad, turned around and subtly drew his wand. 

“Evanesco,” he muttered, and the paper bag disappeared.

He tucked his wand back into his jeans and pushed his hands into his pockets, suddenly a little nervous. The door of the garage was open, and Sirius could see a pair of legs sticking out from under a car near the back.

“Barney?” he called, and the legs shifted and Barney wiggled out from under the car. 

“’Allo, Sirius, you’re nice and early.”

Sirius shrugged and gave him a wry smile. “The sooner I start working, the sooner she’s mine,” he said, longingly looking over to where the bike was resting on its stand near the far wall.

Barney nodded sagely. “True, lad, true. Now how many cars have you seen inside?”

They spent the morning tinkering, or in Sirius’ case, taking things apart to see how they would fit back together. He took a break at lunch time and leant against the wall at the front of the garage, breathing in the smell of engine oil and glancing every few minutes at the bike still standing at the far side of the garage. He had a thought, and went back inside to where Barney was wiping his hands on an old cloth and looking down, pleased, into the bonnet of one of the cars.

“She was a tricky one, this ‘un. Done now.” 

“Looks good,” Sirius agreed, and then, “Barney, I wanted to ask, the bike, you won’t sell her out from under me while I’m working it off will you?”

Barney squinted at him. “No, son, course not. I make an honest living, and I’m not a crook. Don’ you worry ‘bout that. I’ve promised her to you. And who knows, maybe when you’ve paid her off you’ll stay on ‘ere anyway. Work for money and all.” He smiled wryly and Sirius felt better.

“Thanks, that’s good to know. And, how long will it take me to work it off?” 

Barney scratched his chin. “I was wonderin’ tha’ too. You any good at sums?”

Sirius nodded, and Barney crossed the room to a work bench and grabbed an old instruction manual and a pencil, and then handed them to Sirius.

“Now, I’ll pay ye’ £2.50 an hour.” Sirius was silently pleased. It was more than he was getting at the bar. 

“And say’s you work 7 hours a day, how much is tha’ a day?”

Sirius scribbled on the back of the manual, and then replied, “£17.50.”

“Right, an’ 5 days a week, maybe 6 if you want ta come down on Saturdays…”

“Including Saturdays, that’s £105 a week.”

“Right then, you’ll be the official owner in three weeks.”

Sirius felt giddy. Such a short amount of time for something so gorgeous. 

“An you can work on ‘er here if you like, during work hours if you wanna ‘ave a tinker while we’re quiet…”

Sirius was grinning now, nodding gratefully. He’d have to find some time when Barney wasn’t around to fix up the parts by magic, but that wouldn’t be too hard.

By the time he got home, he was smeared with engine oil and sweat and feeling happier than he had in weeks. James wrinkled his nose as he came through the door.

“Mate, did you go swimming in oil?”

Sirius flipped him off and went through into the bathroom.

“And what have you done all day?” Sirius yelled from the other room.

“This and that,” James yelled back. “I got some food.”

“How much food?” 

“Loaf of bread and a bottle of milk!”

Sirius pulled a face. “Exciting…” 

“Hey, don’t see you going shopping, it’s hard! There are a lot of things I didn’t understand the point of, and- and a Muggle laughed at me!”

Sirius yanked his damp, greasy shirt over his head and chucked it on the floor, testing the water with one hand. Bloody freezing.

“Muggles always laugh at you James, I’ve told you, it’s the glasses.” He heard a huff from the other room and then James appeared in the doorway.

“Take it back and I’ll make your shower warm.”

Sirius snorted. “Can’t, I’ve tried. The charm doesn’t hold.”

James just raised his eyebrows.

“Fine, I’m sorry Prongsie, they’re lovely glasses. Truly smashing. Twice, if you step on them.”

James didn’t look impressed, but he drew his wand out of his back pocket and pointed it at the rusty shower head.

“Calefacius,” he announced.

Sirius gingerly put a hand under the water and looked shocked when he felt it was warm, hot even.

“How?”

“Heating charm on the shower head. Make that red hot, the water will heat up on the way through.”  
Sirius was annoyed he hadn’t thought of that. “Ta, Prongs.”

He enjoyed his shower, standing under the water for a good ten minutes. James, straying into the kitchen for another piece of bread, turned as the bathroom door opened and a big black dog trotted out, soaking wet, tongue lolling out. He laughed, until the dog started to shake.

Water flew everywhere, spraying James and the rest of the room with water. The dog stopped shaking and looked at James for a second, tongue still hanging out, and James just shook his head. Turning back around and trotting into the bathroom, the dog morphed back into Sirius just as it made it through the door, leaving James with the image of Sirius’ bare behind.

“Was that because you didn’t think of the shower thing first, or because I only bought bread?” James called.

“Neither. I don’t have any towels.”

 

When Sirius left for work that night, James was just finishing the loaf of bread. He was toasting the last piece, stuck on the end of his wand, using Sirius’ wand to light a flame just under it. It seemed he was burning his fingers more often than he was toasting the bread, but he seemed happy.

Nancy gave Sirius a smile as he let himself in, and he took the time to watch her as she finished drying the last of the glasses. She was pretty, he decided. Other people would agree she was pretty. Still, nothing special. Sirius decided his short attention span wouldn’t do well to have someone pretty but not much else. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had no idea if she was clever, or if she had a sense of humour, or if she could shut James up with just a look. Sirius knew only two people who could do that. One of those was Lily, and the other was Remus. Sirius lived in awe of that skill, but had never been able to attain it.

Besides, the idea of spending time with someone who would run a mile at the sight of him shifting form into that of a dog, sounded tedious. He didn’t know for sure if Nancy was adverse to shape-shifting Wizards, but he had a pretty good idea. Honestly, she’d be dumb not to be.

For the first hour of his shift, the usual older men and saddened middle age business folk stopped in, drank their sorrows, and then headed home to a tv dinner and an early night. Sirius almost felt sick at the idea of living like that. 

The second hour brought young people, girls in twirly dresses and young men in flared jeans and earrings. Sirius liked to see how many of the girls he could wink at and make blush without their young male counterparts noticing. Since most of the boys were more interested in themselves and the state of their hair, Sirius often quickly lost interest in that game. When they started drinking, it became too easy.

He caught the eye of a girl in a yellow dress, a daisy patterned head cloth around her hair. The bight dress was rather an assault on the eyes, and he thought if the girl’s boyfriend, a tall, willowy guy with long hair and a peace-sign necklace, took offence at Sirius’ gesture, Sirius could just say the dress had made his eyes water.

The next time he caught the girl’s eye, he winked. The girl, as predicted, giggled and went pink.

Too easy, Sirius thought.

He picked up a glass, polishing it against a cloth, and then got the feeling he was being looked at. 

Nothing new there, he wore tight shirts for a reason, but he looked up at the far end of the bar and saw, not a girl inspecting his body, but another boy. 

He was tall, slim, wearing tight jeans and a light coloured jean-jacket. Sirius quickly looked down at the glass he was polishing, fumbling slightly as he placed it back on the bar. He poured someone a drink and then glanced nonchalantly back to where the guy had been standing. The guy was still staring, and when Sirius caught his eye this time, the guy winked.

Sirius’ eyes widened. The guy smirked. Sirius fled. 

The door to the men’s bathroom swung shut behind him and Sirius leant on the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror.

Maybe he should stop playing that game.

He pushed the door back open and came out into the dark hall, the light and noise of the pub hitting him again from a few meters away down the dim passage. 

A figure was leaning on the wall by the door, and Sirius realized too late it was the guy from the bar. Too late to act like he wasn’t quite done in the bathroom and hide back inside, Sirius looked at the floor and tried to walk casually past him, but the guy put a hand out and caught Sirius’ upper arm. Sirius jerked in alarm, and the other man smiled. 

“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He ducked his head and gave Sirius a smile, and Sirius eyed him warily.

“Don’t call me love,” he managed, and the guy gave a soft laugh, stepping closer.

“I’ll call you whatever you want me to call you,” he said, voice low, hand coming to rest back on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius was scared now. He didn’t know if he wanted to run or punch the guy. He shook his head instead.

“I- I don’t, I mean, you’re barking up the wrong tree here, mate, I’m not-”

The man cut him off with a laugh. Up close, Sirius could see he was a few years older than himself, the jean jacket hugging his torso, biceps visible when he flexed his arm to give Sirius’ shoulder a squeeze.

“You sure?”

Sirius stared. “I… what? Course I’m sure!” Indignation started to turn into anger, and Sirius was about to follow through and actually punch the guy when he was suddenly pushed backwards to be held up against the wall, the other guy’s body flush against his. Sirius, although he would never admit it, was terrified.

“For someone who’s sure, you do seem awfully keen to assert your pull on the ladies.” The words were whispered low in his ear, and Sirius panicked, shoving the guy away from him and taking off down the passageway back to the bar. A panicked glance at the clock showed him he had an hour left of his shift. 

Hands shaking, Sirius poured another beer for a balding man in a floral shirt, and then rushed to fill the demand for drinks that had built up in the two minutes he’d been gone. 

The guy hadn’t followed him out of the hall, and Sirius didn’t see him again. 

 

Sirius slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning in the tiny bed. At half past one, he got up, shifted into Padfoot and trotted out into the lounge where James was sprawled on the couch. He jumped carefully up onto James feet, and James sat up blearily. “Pads?”

Sirius nosed at his hand and James smiled and lay back down.

“Night, Sirius.”

 

The next day Sirius escaped to the garage again. On his lunch break, he walked to the little corner shop and bought a bottle of milk and a bag of crisps. In the afternoon, he organized the shelves of the workshop, and found the instruction manual for the bike. 

Barney gave him a clap on the shoulder and a smile when he saw his work, and said, “Take the manual home. Might learn something.”

He got home to find James was out, so he had a go at fixing the ugly chair, took a shower, and then left for the bar. 

If I see that guy again, Sirius resolved, I’ll just punch him. 

He didn’t, and the bar was much less busy than the night before. He poured drinks, he flirted with the girls, he wiped down the sticky bar and tried not to look at the clock too often. At around 8 o’clock he discovered they were out of vodka, so he flipped a tea towel over his shoulder and ducked into the back room to grab another bottle. 

On his return, he found someone new sitting at the bar.

The tea towel was thrown to the floor, the vodka plonked down on the bench, and Sirius launched himself out from behind the bar and bodily threw his arms around the new arrival. 

Remus.

Sirius let go of him after a while, grinning hugely. “Mate, how? Why are you here? When did you get here? Who told you where to go? James? It was James, wasn’t it?”

Remus laughed. “He wrote to me when you moved out, asked if I’d heard from you. Which I hadn’t. Two months, Sirius! Two months and I haven’t heard hide nor hair from you! What have you been doing?”

Sirius smiled, a little guiltily, and gestured around himself. “Well… this. And I have a motorbike, you should see her, Remus, she’s the most beautiful thing-”

“Hey! Can we get some drinks over here?”

He was interrupted by a prissy looking girl waving an empty glass in the air further down the bar, and Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“Right back,” he told Remus, and slipped back behind the bar.

He filled the girl’s drink, being stingy on the alcohol and generous with the syrup, just because she was such a bitch.

Remus leant his elbows on the bar and watched as Sirius poured another beer, deftly cutting off the flow just before it spilled over, leaving the perfect amount of froth on the top and then placing it down on the bar and flicking the coins into the till. He nudged it closed with his hip and grinned at Remus.

“Anyway, like I was saying,” he continued, taking a pound note from another customer and pouring 4 shots of tequila into their glasses one after another, without tilting the bottle back up, “I have a bike, well sort of. I’m working to pay her off in a garage down the block. And here at the bar, 6 days a week. Have you seen the flat?”

Remus nodded, watching Sirius wipe down the spillage from a rum and coke he’d just handed over and then drape the tea towel back over his shoulder. “Yeah, James met me at the station and took me there before I came here. I uh, left my bag up there too...”

Sirius stopped mid movement, and let out a bark of laughter. “That’s brilliant, Remus, god! The Marauders back together! Well almost. Wait, Peter’s not…”

Remus laughed, shaking his head. “No, sorry, James wrote to him but he’s in Scotland with his folks. Back in a week, though. Might come down.” 

Sirius grinned, gazing at Remus. His hair was longer, and Sirius could see the beginnings of stubble around his jaw from where he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Sirius had long ago perfected the charm for that, he’d have to show Remus sometime. Dark circles under his eyes were a tell-tale sign of the full moon a couple of nights ago, but he looked good. Happy. Like Sirius felt, looking at him.

“Refill?” he asked, taking Remus’ empty glass. “On the house,” he added. 

Remus gave him a chastising look. “Should you be giving away alcohol?”

Sirius shrugged and poured him another one.

Remus was about to say something along the lines of, ‘You’ll lose your job,’ but then he realized that actually, Sirius was good at this. Which really wasn’t anything new, Sirius was good at most things, but Remus had never considered Sirius to have, well, the sticking power to see something through, especially a job.

Remus stayed ‘til the end of Sirius’ shift, sitting backwards on the stool and leaning back on the bar to watch as Sirius wiped tables and pulled curtains. 

A short man, hair slightly greasy and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, let himself in and grunted a greeting at Sirius. He didn’t pay any attention to Remus, instead emptying the cash register and running a finger along the top of the bar then inspecting the tip. 

On his way out he slapped a couple of bills down on the table by Sirius, who nodded his thanks, but as soon as the man left the bar Sirius wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

“Owner,” he told Remus unnecessarily. It had been obvious.

“Is he a good boss?” Remus asked, and Sirius shrugged. 

“Hardly ever see him. Suits me fine.”

They walked home through the darkened streets. Sirius was tired, and Remus didn’t press him to talk, but as they paused outside the door to the flat, Sirius turned and gave Remus a smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

James was still up, sitting on the awful, but fixed, green chair, reading Sirius’ motorbike manual.

“You fixed my ugly chair!”

James looked guilty. “Remus fixed your ugly chair.”

Sirius slapped Remus on the shoulder and grinned. “I like my ugly chair.”

A parcel of newspaper was sitting on the table, smelling distinctly of hot chips. 

“Thought you might be hungry?” James rubbed the back of his neck, and the other two boys nodded eagerly. 

Remus crossed the room to the little fridge and opened it, then looked disappointed and closed it again. 

He opened several cupboards before James said, “I did that too, they’re all empty.”

“Why haven’t you gone shopping?”

Sirius, through a mouthful of chips, said, “James tried, but a Muggle laughed at him.”

“What, isn’t he used to that by now?” Remus grinned, and Sirius almost choked on his mouthful.

“Urf wherf er serfh!”

Remus raised his eyebrows. James rolled his eyes and supplied, “He said, ‘that’s what I said.’”

Sirius nodded happily, cramming some more chips in his mouth.

“Why do you only have one chair?” Remus asked, looking at James sitting on the ugly chair, and Sirius who was sitting on the edge of the table. The table didn’t look happy with the arrangement.

Sirius shrugged. “There was only one here, and where are you meant to buy chairs?”

Remus just stared at him, and shook his head. “Tomorrow we are going food and necessity shopping.”

“Are chairs really a necessity?” Sirius asked, and Remus looked around.

“Well I’m not going to eat my meals, when we get them that is, standing up.” 

He grabbed a handful of chips and looked around as if expecting a plate to magically appear. One didn’t.

“I wish we were all better at conjuring.”

The other two nodded, sadly.

Sirius nabbed the last few chips from the paper, and noticed Remus looking around the flat again.

“What now?” he asked.

“Nothing, it’s just… where are we all going to sleep.”

James stood up and kicked the chair back under the table, screwing up the paper from the chips and tossing it towards the bench. It missed and he left it.

“Me and Sirius can top and tail, and you can have the couch?”

Remus looked a little concerned, but he nodded. “Is that going to be a long term thing..?”

James was starting to look concerned too, probably at the idea of waking up to Sirius’ feet in his face every morning. “Are beds expensive?”

Remus snorted. “Yes. Yes they are.”

There was a silence. None of them felt like addressing any more of the problems that might occur with three of them now living in what was basically two rooms, neither with much going for them.

“Do you have a shower?” Remus asked, and Sirius brightened. That was something they did have.

“Yeah, through here. And if you cast a heating charm on the showerhead, you get as much hot water as you like.” He saw James looking at him, and added, “That was James’ idea.”

Remus smiled and pushed himself off the bench where he’d been leaning. “I’ll have a shower then.”

“The charm is ‘Calefacius’!” Sirius called after him, and then padded through into the bedroom to find pajamas.

“Pads,” said James, following him in, “you won’t mind if I nick off and stay at Lily’s for a night here and there will you? It’s only a short train ride from here. You’ll have Remus, so-”

“Yeah, course, that sounds brilliant,” Sirius grinned at James and headed into the bedroom. “And who says you have to stay in the spare room, if you know what I mean…”

James, who had followed him in, picked up the pillow off the bed and thumped Sirius with it, but he was smiling. “Get out, I want to get changed.”

Sirius laughed, “What, suddenly coy Prongs? We shower together!” 

“God Sirius, when you say it like that. It’s a large room, and there are lots of other people in it… I’m not really making this better am I?”

Sirius laughed, hard. “Nope.”

From the bathroom, Remus, hearing everything, grinned to himself.

 

To say they slept comfortably would be an exaggeration. Halfway through the night Sirius woke up to get a glass of water, and came back to find James had taken over the entire bed. He sighed and turned into Padfoot, and leapt up onto the bed to settle on James’ feet. It worked well, and Sirius thought if they couldn’t find an alternative he wouldn’t mind sleeping as Padfoot more often than not. 

In the morning, Remus poked his head through the door, saw them asleep, and snorted. Padfoot raised his head and whined at him. Remus smiled. “Didn’t think we were allowed pets?” 

Padfoot’s tongue lolled out and he panted happily and jumped down off the bed, turning back into Sirius mid jump to leave him sprawling on the floor. “Graceful,” Remus laughed. James slept peacefully on despite the thud Sirius had made.

“Do you wanna come see my bike?” Sirius asked as he and Remus stared longingly into the empty fridge. “We could get some food-”

“Definitely,” Remus cut him off.

They stopped at the little bakery and got hot mince pies. “Do you think James will want one?” Remus asked, so they got one for James too. 

“It’ll be cold by the time you give it to him,” Sirius pointed out, and Remus stopped to cast a subtle heat-retention charm on the bag.

They walked the few blocks to the garage and found it locked, so they waited, finishing their pies and leaning on the garage door. 

Barney arrived after about 10 minutes and Sirius introduced Remus, and said he was just going to show him the bike. As they wove in and out of various car parts and benches, Remus looked a little worried he was going to touch something he shouldn’t or get grease on his clothes, but he stood patiently while Sirius wheeled the bike out of its corner and pointed out all the things that he was particularly proud of. Remus, knowing nothing at all about cars or bikes or anything that had an engine, nodded and smiled and said, “Yes, she’s very pretty,” at all the right moments.

Then Barney called Sirius over to help him lift something, and Remus said he’d better head home and give James his breakfast. 

The day went fast, with Sirius cleaning things and stripping things and wiring things and then unwiring them and then wiring them again. He took apart the engine of the bike that afternoon, and discovered the cam chain was broken. Barney looked over as Sirius swore, and nodded.

“Aye, she won’t be easy to fix, lad. I’ve got a few contacts who might have the part…”

But Sirius knew this was fixable with the right spell. He needed one that would bind metal. Remus would know. He nodded anyway, “Thanks, Barney.”

 

When he got home, he found James and Remus playing cards. 

“Where did you get cards?” he asked.

“I brought them,” said Remus, throwing down the ace of spades triumphantly. The ace of spades yelled, “Ouch!”

James grumpily put down the sighing three of clubs and said, “You should have brought wizard’s chess, I would have beaten you at that.”

Remus laughed, “Then why would I want to bring that?”

Sirius headed in the direction of the bathroom, shedding clothing as he walked. “Is that all you’ve done today?”

“Actually, I got a job,” James said proudly.

Sirius stopped and turned, shirt half over his head. “Really? Where?”

“Well it’s not a permanent sort of thing, but there’s this old lady down the street whose son is away, and she needs someone to help her around the house.” 

Sirius snorted.

“Not like that, Sirius, come on, she’s 80.”

Remus smirked. James ignored them both. 

“I’ll just be carrying things, her shopping, gardening-”

“Do you have to help her shower?” Sirius cut in slyly.

“Ew, no, mate that’s gross. I’m sure she can undress herself. I thought you’d be happy for me, it sounds ideal, her son is away for another 2 weeks.”

“Sorry, Prongs, yeah it sounds great. Well done. How did you find out about it?”

Remus answered, “We were walking home from buying milk and she was struggling with her shopping bags, and James, like the gentleman he is-” Sirius snorted again but Remus continued, “-helped her with them and they got chatting.”

Sirius looked hopefully at the kitchen. “Did you buy anything else but milk?”

“No, we were waiting for you so we could go proper shopping.”

“What, at a supermarket? Look out James, there might be laughing Muggles.”

James tossed the queen of hearts at him, and the queen screamed and then missed Sirius altogether to land on the couch. 

“Hurry up and have your shower.”

Before Sirius could leave the room, there was a knock on the door. Sirius frowned. “What day is it?” 

“Friday,” Remus replied. 

“First Friday of the month?” Sirius asked, and Remus nodded.

“Fuck,” Sirius swore. “Rent.”

James and Remus looked at each other, and then both got up. Remus rummaged around in his bag before pulling out a leather wallet, and James appeared from the bedroom holding the little purse. 

Sirius turned out his pockets. 

“Coming!” he yelled at the door, as the knock came again.

“How much is it?” James whispered.

“Forty pounds a month,” Sirius whispered back, and threw all the change in his pockets down on the table. James slapped down a ten and a few coins, and Remus quickly counted what they had and then added nine pounds seventy.”

“Done,” James whispered, and Sirius gave him a slap on the shoulder. “Thanks.”

He scooped up the money and opened the door. A middle aged Indian man stood on the other side of it, rubbing his moustache. Sirius nodded at him and held out the money. “Hi Mr Patel, sorry about that. Should be all there.”

Mr Patel looked suspiciously into the flat, and James gave him a little wave. Remus smiled.

“Uh, these are my friends, James and Remus, they’re just visiting,” Sirius jumped to explain, and Mr Patel nodded.

“Nice to meet you. Thank you Sirius, good to see you’re keeping it tidy. Good-day.” And he disappeared down the stairs.   
“He’s a good enough sort, bit brusque, but he leaves me alone. Him and his wife own the Laundromat downstairs.”

“I liked his moustache,” James said, rubbing his upper lip. “I could grow a moustache.”

Both Sirius and Remus answered at once. “No.”

Sirius took his shower, discovered another ten pound note in the pocket of his other pair of jeans, and then they left the flat and trailed out into the street which was looking greyer and more like rain by the minute. The nearest supermarket was a couple of blocks away, and soon a sign announcing “Tesco” came into view. 

Sirius pushed open the door and they went in, to be greeted by aisles and aisles of food. It was a little overwhelming.

“Have either of you two ever grocery shopped before?” Remus asked, and they shook their heads. Remus looked worried.

“Have you?” Sirius asked, and Remus looked unsure.

“A few times, with my mother.”

“Lead the way then,” James said, giving him a shove towards the fruit section. Remus snagged a basket off the top of the stack and wandered towards the bananas. The other two followed.

“Do we like fruit?” James asked, and the other two looked unsure. 

“I like it at school. Is it the same?” Sirius asked, and then had a quick look around him before picking a grape off one of the bunches and popping it in his mouth. He made a ‘so-so’ face.

“Sirius, you can’t…” but Remus gave up, as Sirius was already wandering off in the direction of the apples.

They bought a bag of apples and decided that was enough fruit, and potatoes, because they go with everything and, as Sirius put it, mashing them was fun. 

The meat section had them all confused, as none of them had any idea how to cook it. 

“It can’t be that hard? Can’t you just… I don’t know, put it in the oven and it does stuff and then you eat it?” James asked.

“I don’t think it does, I think you have to do stuff to it,” Remus said, and they all stared at the various slabs of meat behind the glass of the butchery section.

Eventually, they bought a lot of ham, because you can eat that cold, and some sausages, because Remus said he knew how to cook those. 

“Do you have a frying pan?” Remus asked, and Sirius shrugged. Remus sighed.

“We’ll buy a frying pan.”

The basket slowly filled with odds and ends of food the one or more of the boys thought they could turn into some sort of meal. Remus, the practical one, threw in toilet paper, soap, tea leaves, butter, milk and a few loaves of bread, and thought at least now they wouldn’t starve. They may have to eat some interesting combinations of flavours, but there was always bread. 

As they passed the aisle with soap and other soap-like things, James looked dolefully down it and said, “That’s where the Muggle laughed at me.” Sirius stopped and stepped back so he could look down the aisle. 

“Why?”

James turned and went down it, and picked up a small box off one of the shelves.

“I’m not sure, I was just trying to find out what these are for.”

Sirius sounded out the word on box. “Tam…pax.”

He looked confusedly at Remus, who was trying to hold in a laugh.

“What? What are they? Did you read the back, James?”

“No, I put them away when the Muggle laughed…” He turned the box over and they read the back, scanning the tiny words until the found what they were used for. James choked on his own saliva and threw the box back onto the shelf and Sirius went very pale, staring at the display as if frozen in time.

Remus cackled, grabbing Sirius by the arm and following James out of the aisle.

Deciding they were well and truly done with grocery shopping, they paid for the food, splitting the bill 3 ways, and then headed home each clutching one of the brown paper bags.

“There’s no Muggles around, can’t we just levitate them?” Sirius complained, and Remus gave him a stern look. 

“No. We mayn’t have the trace on us anymore but it’s still illegal to practice magic in public.”

Sirius huffed and rolled his eyes. 

James, in an effort to cheer Sirius up, suggested, “Let’s go out tonight. After you finish work, Sirius, let’s hit up another bar, have some fun.”

“Won’t Sirius be tired?” Remus asked, and Sirius glanced over, pleased the Remus seemed concerned.

“Nah, I’m fine, let’s do it.” Then something caught his eye from a shop window, and he paused. It was an old leather jacket, a bit worn and brown in some places but still, a proper leather jacket. 

He started towards the door, and Remus and James looked at each other. James shrugged, and they followed him in. 

The inside of the little second hand shop smelt of dust and forgotten things, and was very, very quiet. 

Sirius shoved his shopping bag at James, who clutched it to him with some difficulty until Remus put his bag down and took it from him.

Sirius was lifting the jacket off the display and shrugging it over his shoulders. It fit perfectly and he grinned at the other two. 

“How do I look?”

“Very teenage rebel,” Remus supplied, and James nodded.

“Perfect,” Sirius replied.

He took it off and found the price tag. He frowned a little, and turned the tag over, then back again.

“What?” Remus asked, and Sirius held out the tag which said, ‘£2.70’.

“Why is it so cheap?” Remus asked, and James huffed a laugh.

“Maybe someone died in it?”

“Cool…” Sirius whispered. 

Remus laughed and shook his head. “Sorry Sirius, I don’t think that’s it. Turn it over.”

The back of the jacket had a tear in the leather, almost all the way across the lower back. It was a clean tear, and Remus said quietly, “You could mend that with the right spell.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up and he grinned.

He made his way to the counter at the back of the shop and rang the little bell, and a voice called, “Coming!”

He waited, and then hearing a soft laugh he turned to see Remus pull something off a hanger. Remus shrugged on a purple waistcoat that was slightly too big, hanging open to display the flower print on the lining. 

“Here, and these,” James laughed, and handed him a pair of round, tinted glasses. 

Remus put them on and then struck a pose, one hand on his hip, the other stretched up, finger pointing to the sky. 

“Flower power?” he grinned, and then sheepishly took the glasses off as an old lady came out from the back room. 

Sirius tried to get his laughter under control as he paid for the jacket.

They headed back out into the street, Sirius proudly wearing his jacket and carrying his shopping bag again.

They came to the steps of the flat to find an owl perched on the handrail of the front steps, holding a letter in its beak. James reached for it, and the owl relinquished it with a small peck to James’ thumb. 

James shot it a dirty look and it cocked his head at him. 

Reading out loud, James began.

 

“Dear James, Sirius and Remus,

The weather in Scotland is terrible, and my parents are, as they put it, mighty sick of wet clothes, so we’re coming home a few days early. I hope you are having fun in your house, Sirius, working in a bar sounds so cool, I can’t wait to see it. James, how is Lily? And Remus, I hope you’re not too worn out after the full last week. 

If you’ll still have me, I would really like to accept James’ invitation of coming to stay. Let me know and I can take a train to Marylebone Station to meet you. I have a Muggle aunt who lives in London so I can stay with her if there is not enough room.

Hope you are all well, hoping to hear from you soon.

Yours faithfully (also wetly, Scotland is the pits),  
Peter”]

 

James looked up from the letter and grinned. “This is going to be brilliant.”

Remus was looking doubtful. “Where are we all going to sleep?”

 

James’ smile faded a little, and Sirius said, “Oh come on, cheer up, The Marauders together again! I’ll sleep as Padfoot, takes up less room. James and Remus can have the bed, Peter can have the couch. Sorted! Come on, get inside, these bags are heavy and it’s starting to rain.”

 

They got inside and set the grocery bags down on the table, and Remus started to unpack them. Sirius glanced at the dusty clock on his wall, which ran half an hour slow and he hadn’t bothered to fix, which told him he had an hour before he had to be at work.

 

“I have work in half an hour,” he said, and slumped down onto the couch. Remus squinted at the clock.

“Is that clock right?” he asked, and Sirius shook his head.

James cast a Tempus to check the time and then took the clock down, moving the hand forward half an hour. 

“I liked it slow.” Sirius grumbled. 

Remus and James shared a look, which Sirius ignored.

“Sirius, now you have us to help pay rent, why don’t you cut back on the amount of nights you work at the pub?” James suggested.

Sirius hadn’t thought of that. 

“I could, I guess, but I’d have to find someone to cover for me…”

“Nancy would do it, I bet,” James said, winking at Sirius.

“Who’s Nancy?” Remus asked, more sharply than any of them were expecting. He quickly smoothed his features and tried to look only vaguely interested.

James looked at him sideways. “Just a girl Sirius takes over in the pub from. I think she’s into him, is all.”

Remus nodded, trying to look like he hadn’t actually wanted to know.

James looked confused.

In an attempt to move on from the awkward subject change, Remus cleared his throat and said, “Sirius, why don’t you mend the jacket?”

Sirius shrugged. “What charm would I use?”

Crumpling and vanishing the last paper bag, Remus crossed the room and opened his bag and pulled out a book. 

“How on earth did you fit that in there?” James said in wonderment.

“The bag’s charmed to be bigger on the inside,” Remus replied, and then flipped the book open. He turned a few pages and then ran a finger down the page to land on a spell, and then passed the book to Sirius.

“That one should work.”

Sirius read the little blurb on mending and housework charms, ignoring the fact that this book was obviously written last century, as the opening sentence was, ‘Possibly the most important charms a witch can know...” He snorted and shook his head. 

“You mean ‘Carcio’?”

Remus nodded. “You could try ‘Reparo’ but that one looks to be specifically for clothing.”

Sirius tried ‘Reparo’, and the leather rejoined the whole way along, but when he gently gave it a tug, it reopened and was back to how it was before. However with ‘Carcio’, he could see the leather almost grow back together again, and although it only did a small section at a time it didn’t come apart when he pulled it, even quite hard.

“Thanks, Rem,” he said, concentrating on another section of the tear.

Remus smiled. “Don’t call me Rem.”

 

Work was long, and dull, and Sirius was glad when it was ten minutes til closing and James and Remus walked through the door. Sirius kicked the last few patrons out and locked up. The greasy-haired owner shuffled in just as they were locking the side door, and they waited while he emptied the till and then handed Sirius his pay for the night.

“Uh, Mr Calder, Sir, I was wondering if there is any way I can cut back on my hours, if there was anyone else asking for a job who could take over a few nights a week?”

Mr Calder eyed him with disdain and huffed a sigh. “Always kids asking for jobs, sonny, if you’re willing to give up a couple nights’ pay a week then I won’t have any trouble replacing you. How many do you want to be working?”

“I, uh…” Sirius glanced at James and Remus who shrugged and didn’t say anything. “Maybe, 4 days on, 3 days off? I’m happy to keep Saturdays, up to you, Mr Calder.”

The man scratched at his greasy head and nodded. “I’ll let you know.” Then he turned and headed away down the dark side street.

Sirius watched him go and then looked at the other two.

“That was easy?” 

James and shrugged, nodded, and then they set off down the street.

 

The bar they chose was more a nightclub than a bar. They went through the door, past the burly looking man with a beard, and into the darkened, hazy room. A disco ball hung from the ceiling, and the music loud. It was quite full for a weeknight, with boys twirling their partners around, a few of the older ones bringing back some rock n roll moves, and coloured lights swirled on the ceiling. 

Sirius grinned and launched himself into the throng of people. James and Remus looked at each other. James shrugged, and they followed Sirius into the crowd. 

Sirius had never considered dancing to be an activity of choice before he’d come to Muggle London. He’d been to this club before, which wasn’t surprising, he’d been to most of them. He’d gotten drunk, of course, hooked up with a few girls, been punched in the mouth by the guy one of them had arrived with, and then left to wander home feeling no less restless and unsatisfied than he had when he’d walked into the club.

That was fairly summative of Sirius’ life really. Before James had jumped in with his hero complex, that is. James had a compulsive need, Sirius thought, to save people. Especially him. He knew that was why James had moved in, but he couldn’t deny that the past week had been the best he’d had in a long time. He also knew that James had rounded up the other two in the hope it would remind Sirius he wasn’t alone. He knew he wasn’t alone, and he was grateful, he supposed. But it was the principal of it that got to Sirius. He didn’t need to be saved.

He broke away from the dancing crowd and headed towards the bar, and found Remus and James already there. James handed him a glass of… something. “What is it?” he yelled over the music, and James yelled back, “Rum and coke!”

He took a long sip and leant back on the bar. Remus brushed his elbow as he moved to stand next to him, and Sirius nudged him back. Suddenly a shout got their attention.

“James!”

They looked up to see a tall boy they recognized from school. James’ face broke out in a grin. “Barry!”

‘Barry’ grinned back and came up to them, and James introduced him. “Uh, Sirius, Remus, this is Barry, he’s a Hufflepuff Chaser. We trained together last term. Barry, this is Sirius, and Remus.”  
Barry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve seen you around at Hogwarts. What are you all doing at a Muggle club? Are your parents Muggles too?”

“No, we’re just in town, staying nearby. Shall we move somewhere quieter? Who are you here with?”

Barry gestured over his shoulder to where a couple were laughing with a group by the bar further along.  
“That’s my brother and his girlfriend. Let’s move over to the corner, shall we?”

They shifted to a newly vacated booth seat in the corner, and James and Barry chatted happily, James explaining how it was they were in London. Sirius snuck away to get another drink, which Remus ended up drinking most of, so then he had to get another to replace that lost one. Eventually the conversation turned to Quidditch, and since neither Remus nor Sirius played and didn’t have much to contribute, they excused themselves and went back to the bar.

“Another drink, Moony?” Sirius asked, and Remus shrugged. Then a sly smile crossed Sirius’ face.   
“We should do shots.”

Remus looked unsure. “I- I’ve never done shots before. What do they do?”

Get you real drunk, real fast, Sirius thought to himself, but he said, “Nothing much different, they don’t taste as good but they make you feel great.”

Remus looked skeptical, but nodded. “Oh, okay.”

Sirius called the barmaid over and got vodka shots each and then instructed Remus on how to open his throat so he could down it all at once. Remus obediently did so and swallowed the first shot. He coughed as the raw alcohol burned his throat and Sirius laughed, downing his. 

“Come on, and the next one.”

“Sirius, are you trying to get me drunk?”

Sirius feigned an innocent look. “What, no, why would I do that?”

Remus didn’t answer, just threw the second shot down his throat and thudded the small glass down on the bar.

Sirius slapped him on the back and did the same. Then he grabbed Remus by the sleeve and yanked him out onto the dance floor. 

It didn’t take long for the alcohol to hit them, and soon the room was reeling and they were grinning like idiots, jumped and twisting and grabbing each other to stay upright in the crush of people. Eventually Remus dragged Sirius’ head towards him and yelled in his ear, “Am I meant to feel like I’m going to be sick?”

Sirius laughed his head off and then took Remus by the arm and led him towards the door to the small courtyard out the back. They burst through the open door giggling and leaning on each other.  
“Still feel like bein’ sick?” Sirius drawled, and Remus shook his head. Then winced.

“Well, now I do.”

“You’ll be fine. Let’s sit.” He took Remus’ arm again and Remus let himself be dragged to a small table in the corner, and plonked down in one of the seats. The ground was swimming, and he laughed as Sirius almost missed his chair and grabbed at Remus to steady himself. He sat down, on the chair this time, but his wand stabbed him in the leg as he did so and he almost fell out of his chair again trying to pull it out of his back pocket. Finally he managed, and placed the offending wand on the table.

“Sirius, there’s two of you,” Remus slurred, and Sirius pulled a silly face, to which Remus let out a snort and then reached out to touch. His fingers grazed Sirius’ cheek and Remus smiled. 

“Wind’ll change,” he murmured. Sirius was just staring at him, so he withdrew his hand. 

“Why’d you get me this drunk, Pads? I’ve never been this drunk, shots are bad, very veeeeeery bad.”

“Nah, it’s fun, this is pretty much all I did before James moved in.”

Remus looked at him. “Wasn’t that sad?”

“Sad? Whadya mean?”

“Weren’t you lonely?” 

“No, there’s tonnes of people here, look?” Sirius gestured around himself at the courtyard, which was actually a little less full than when they’d come in. It was getting late, he thought, although he actually had no idea how long they’d been here. He wrestled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and then the lighter, and then froze as he realized Remus was there.

Remus was looking at him curiously. “You smoke? Like, properly? Not just as a dare or just to try it?”

Sirius shrugged, thought maybe if he was casual about it... He didn’t know why he was so worried about Remus’ opinion anyway. 

“S’fine, I don’t do it much.”

“You do it to make yourself look cool, right?” Remus grinned, and Sirius blew smoke in his face. Remus coughed and then leant across the table and took the cigarette out of Sirius’ hand. He looked at it kinda suspiciously, then put it between his own lips and took a breath. Sirius waited for the inevitable choking cough, and then laughed when it came. He took the cigarette back.

“You know it’s bad for you, right?” Remus asked. 

Sirius shrugged again. “Lots of things are bad for you.”

They sat like this for a few minutes, Sirius smoking and Remus leaning an elbow on the table, watching him.

“Sirius… you missed me right?”

Sirius grinned, stubbed his cigarette out on the table’s ashtray and leant across the little table to put a hand on Remus’ arm. “Course I did, Moony, I missed you a lot. Whenever I didn’t know how to do something, I’d think, Rem would know.”

“Don’ call me Rem,” Remus slurred, smiling, but he put a hand up to pat Sirius’ hand on his arm. 

“You should come out more, Rem, I know you like bein’ clever and readin’ all those books but some people might think you’re boring and I don’t want people thinking you’re boring, because you’re not, you’re really interesting.”

“Why do you worry about what people think?” Remus asked, deciding not to take offence at the sort-of insult. He was sure Sirius hadn’t meant it to be one. 

Sirius was quiet, avoiding Remus’ eyes. “I don’t know. Shut up, Moony,” he finally replied, and Remus snorted.

“You aren’t half an arse, Sirius.”

Sirius grinned. “Yep, full arse, that’s me.” He picked up his drink and took a sip. Then he made a face and put the drink back down.

“What is that?”

Remus squinted. “I don’t know. I think it was there when we sat down.”

Sirius looked horrified. Remus giggled.

 

Back inside, Barry had been dragged off by his brother, leaving James to find someone new to talk to. He had searched through the mob of dancers to find no sign of his friends, so he finished his drink and headed towards the door to the courtyard. He politely moved past the few girls standing in the doorway smoking and chatting, and then saw Sirius and Remus sitting at one of the tables. He made his way over and clapped a hand on Sirius’ shoulder, making him jump violently.

“What have you two been up to, then?” James grinned down at them, and Remus smiled serenely up at him. 

“Moony, how drunk are you?”

Sirius answered for him. “He’s fine, he’s enjoying himself, we’re all fine, are you fine, Prongsey?”

James gave him a funny look, “Yeah, fine Pads, do you wanna come back in and dance for a bit?”

“Yes, dancing, dance dance dancing, that is what we should all do,” Sirius prattled, leaping out of his seat and careering off in the direction of the door, almost tripping over a table as he went.

James turned to Remus. “Did you try to talk to him about his feelings?” he asked.

Remus shook his head, picture of, albeit very drunk, innocence.

“Nooo… I don’t think so?” he said, looking confused.

James shook his head, a little confused, but he held out a hand to help Remus up and they followed Sirius into the club.

They found him at the bar, another drink in hand. 

“Sirius, I don’t think-” James started, but Sirius had already shoved another drink in Remus’ hands which he delightedly accepted, and was holding out another one to James. How bad can this possibly go? thought James, and then reached out to knock on the wooden bar top.

Sirius downed his drink, swallowing the remaining half down in a few gulps, and then looked expectantly at Remus, who grimaced, and then tilted his head back to finish his. 

James looked with amazement at the two of them. “Jesus, it’s not a competition, you’re meant to actually taste the drinks.” But Sirius wasn’t listening. He grabbed for Remus, missed the first time, and the second time snagged him by the sleeve and then dragged him off towards the dance floor. 

After that, they lost track of James. The music was all consuming, and Sirius and Remus got completely lost in the writhing, moving mass of people. Occasionally, Sirius would reach for Remus, just to check he was still there, and Remus was using Sirius’ arm as a means of stability more often than not. 

Remus leant in to yell in Sirius’ ear, “I need air, I feel like I’m either floating or dying.”

Sirius grinned like a maniac. “Isn’t it the best?”

And actually, Remus found that it was. Until his body forgot which way was up and he stumbled into Sirius, who clutched at his waist to keep him standing.

It was like the blind leading the blind, Sirius staggering towards the door with Remus dragging him down but trying to keep up. They stumbled outside and leant back against the wall beside the door, giggling and vision swimming, holding onto each other.

“Did you really do this all the time before we came?” Remus asked, lowering his head and nudging at Sirius’ shoulder with his nose as they stood side by side.

“Basically, yeah,” Sirius slurred, resting his head on the wall and still holding onto Remus’ sleeve. 

“Did you meet people? Like, meet people?”

“Y’mean, did I fuck people?”

Remus choked a little at Sirius’ language and then giggled helplessly.

“Yeah, couple times. Get drunk, find a girl, her place or mine, sometimes neither, once it was both…”

Remus was looking at him in awe. “But, she was Muggle?”

“Yup,” Sirius replied, lips popping on the ‘P’. “All Muggle and all boring.”

“Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Go kiss a Muggle, right now, I want to, let’s, Sirius, come on.”

Sirius cracked up as Remus tried to push himself off the wall to go back into the club and ended up lurching sideways into him before making a beeline for the door. 

“No, Rem, no no, come back, you’re not allowed.” Sirius grabbed at his arm and dragged him back to the wall.

Remus looked confused. “But why, don’t you think I can? I could do it!”

Sirius turned his head, still tilted back on the wall, to look at his friend.

“None of them are good enough,” he said.

It took Remus a few seconds to comprehend that, and then he frowned. “But they’re good enough for you,” he said, and Sirius smiled sadly. 

“Yeah, but not for you.”

“Then… who is good enough for me?” Remus asked, chewing on his lower lip and looking at Sirius with such trusting eyes. Sirius’ gaze flicked down to Remus’ lips for a split second, and then he leaned across the small gap between them and pressed their lips together.

If he was expecting Remus to back away, he was disappointed. Remus leant forward into the kiss, hand coming to grapple at Sirius’ waist and eyes falling shut. Sirius moved to pin him to the wall, pushing his knee between the other boy’s legs to push them apart, and then standing between them, bringing taller Remus down to his height. He raised one hand to push through Remus’ hair, which was a little damp with sweat, and then down to the base of his neck as if to hold him still as he deepened the kiss.

Remus made a soft little noise as Sirius’ fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt to rest of the bare skin of his hip, and he broke away giggling. Sirius chased his mouth back under his own, kissing him hard before moving down to a spot on his jaw just under his ear, sucking on it gently and then moving back to slip his tongue into Remus’ mouth.

Sirius wasn’t sure how long they stood like this, kissing and running their hands through each other’s hair and clothing, but eventually they were interrupted by someone coming through the door to their right. Sirius leapt away, leaving Remus dazed and flushed against the wall. 

It was only a young Muggle girl, holding a box of cigarettes. She stared at them in awe, squeaked, “Sorry!” and then darted back into the club. 

Sirius looked at Remus, who still looked blissed out and tousled. “Not James,” Sirius said, and Remus shook his head and then blinked as his vision swum. 

“Not James.”

Sirius looked at him, expecting some sort of realization from Remus, any minute now, that what they just did probably wasn’t what friends normally do at clubs, but Remus just smirked at him and said, “We should probably go find James, though.”

Smiling, relieved and deciding not to think too deeply about anything because his head was still swimming and his brain was happily replaying the kiss and not bothering to do much else, Sirius nodded. He held out a hand to pull Remus off the wall, and then they trailed back into the club.

James, unsurprisingly, had found more people to talk to, and was busy making people laugh with what appeared to be an elaborate and hilarious tale about a kitchen sink, when the other two joined the little group. James flashed them a smile and introduced them, reeling off a bunch of names Remus and Sirius didn’t even really take in. Remus leant against Sirius as they watched James talk, and Sirius’ arm rested comfortably around Remus’ waist.

After a few more minutes, Sirius vaguely heard James saying goodbye to his new friends, and then he was steering both Remus and Sirius, a task that was fairly impressive with the two of them so drunk, towards the exit. They staggered out onto the street, Remus lurching over to clutch at a lamppost to hold him up, Sirius bent over with his hands on his knees, both laughing their heads off. 

James just looked at them in bemusement. “How much did you drink?” 

“Fuck load,” was all Sirius could say, gasping for air from laughing so much.

James pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay. Home. We’re going home, come on.” 

Taking Sirius by the arm and putting a hand on Remus’ back, he got them moving down the footpath. They got two whole blocks before Remus announced suddenly, “I’m going to be sick,” dropped to his hands and knees, and threw up in the gutter.

James looked at Sirius. “Look what you’ve done to him, you’ve completely defiled him. It’s Remus! Is nothing sacred!?”

Sirius looked guiltily down to where Remus was coughing up a day’s worth of nutrition, and winced. “Sorry?” And then, “Oh fuck,” and lurched in the opposite direction to throw up in the nearest garden.

James stood where he was on the pavement, sighed, and waited.

It was easier to get them home after that. Neither really enjoyed the taste of partly digested alcohol in their mouths, and Remus was shivering. Sirius slipped off his new jacket and made him put it on, and James smiled affectionately at the gesture. The stairs to the flat were a bit of a mission, but eventually James let them all into the flat and steered Remus straight to the shower. He cast the heating charm on the shower head and turned on the water, giving Remus a pat on the back as he tried to take off his shoes.

“You want help?” he asked, and Remus grimaced.

“Think ‘m okay. Thanks, Prongs. And sorry. Really, sorry.”

James smiled. “S’ok, used to it with Sirius. Just didn’t expect him to drag you under, too.”

“It’s not his fault, I let myself be dragged. Didn’t think it’d feel like this.”

James paused in the doorway. “Moony… have you ever been drunk before?”

Remus looked up sheepishly. “Er, not so much.”

James let out a snort of laughter. “Welcome to the club, then,” he laughed, and shut the door.

Sirius was lying face down on the couch, and James slapped him on the ass. “Get up, you’re not sleeping like that, and you’re brushing your teeth before you sleep at all.”

He went to the kitchen and grabbed one of the loaves of bread, bringing it back to the couch. He shoved a piece at Sirius. “Eat it,” he said, not unkindly, and Sirius took it reluctantly and gingerly bit off a small corner. James rolled his eyes.

The shower turned off and Remus came out wrapped in a towel, toothbrush in his mouth. 

“Oomph, bwead,” he said sleepily, and James handed him a piece of bread. Remus disappeared back into the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste, and then came back out munching the bread. 

“Doesn’t go so well with toothpaste,” he said miserably, but he ate it anyway. 

Sirius, still slouched on the couch, finished his bread and made to get up, and then felt awful, so he sat back down. 

“I’ll, uh, sleep as Padfoot tonight. In the bathroom.” 

James nodded and held out a hand. “Come on, shower, teeth, sleep.”

“God, you’re like your mum,” Sirius murmured, and James pretended not to hear. He led Sirius into the bathroom, laid a towel down on the floor, and then re-charmed the shower head. 

“In,” he said, giving Sirius a little shove and handing him his toothbrush, and Sirius stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. James turned as he got undressed and was about to leave when Sirius’ quiet voice said, “Stay? In case I pass out or something.”

James didn’t think he was about to pass out, but he leant back against the sink and waited. He handed Sirius a towel as he got out, one he’d brought from home, and Sirius wrapped himself up like a big fluffy caterpillar. 

“There’s another one on the floor for you to sleep on, okay? But don’t be sick on them. And don’t get them all dog-hairy. If you need to be sick, do it in the shower or the toilet.”

Sirius had heard this speech a dozen times, but it was comforting that James still gave it. Now completely dry, Sirius stepped onto the towel on the floor and changed into Padfoot, standing, wagging his tail, towel still draped over top of him like a blanket. He hung out his tongue and lay down, looking balefully up at James. James gave him a pat on the head, stroking his ears the way he knew he liked it, and smiled. 

“Night, Padfoot. Sleep well.” 

He left the door partially open but flipped off the light. Remus was curled up on the couch already, legs tucked up to his chest, eyes closed. James grabbed the blanket off the arm of the couch and put it over him, and Remus mumbled, “Thanks James. G’night.”

“Night Moony,” James replied, and then he went to bed.

 

Padfoot dreamed he was running. Running through a tunnel, with a light that got ever closer at the end of it, and when he finally reached the end, Remus was there. He was sitting on a wall by the railway lines, thumb marking his place in a book as Sirius burst out of the tunnel, skittering sideways and panting with his tongue lolling out. Remus didn’t look unhappy to see him, but he didn’t look overjoyed. Padfoot bounded up to him and jumped to put his paws on Remus’ knees, licking his face and huffing puppy breath onto his chin. And Remus said, “Down, Sirius,” and his voice was cold as ice. 

Sirius woke and immediately transformed back into his human shape, shivering and feeling a little nauseous, and not from the alcohol. He wrapped a towel around himself and leant back against the bathroom wall.

Ever since he’d thrown up on the way home, had purged a significant amount of alcohol from his system, his brain has fuzzily been telling him he should be worried. And now, he was. What if Remus couldn’t even bear to look at him after what they’d done? Well, after what he’d done. Looking back, he can’t remember if Remus’ had gotten a say in it. He regretted that the most. That he couldn’t remember.

I can’t sit here all night worrying, I can’t stand it. So he got quietly up, towel wrapped around his waist, and snuck through into the bedroom. He could faintly see James’ outline huddled under the blankets, so he cast a faint Lumos and took his pair of James’ pajama pants off the pile that was accumulating on the floor. He put them on and left the towel on the floor, and padded out into the lounge.

Remus was curled up on the couch, breathing quietly, and Sirius stopped for a minute, not sure if he should wake him. But then, as he turned to go back into the bathroom he trod on a creaky floorboard, and Remus turned, opening his eyes a little.

“Sirius?” he croaked, and Sirius replied guiltily,

“Yeah, sorry. I was just….” He didn’t finish the sentence, and Remus just bit his lip.

“You okay?”

“What? Yeah, fine,” Sirius whispered back, but he didn’t go back into the bathroom. For want of something to do, he turned and walked softly over to the sink and filled a glass with water. Remus, hearing him turn on the tap, sat up.

“Can I have one?”

There was only one clean glass, so Sirius just refilled his and carried it back to the sofa. Remus took it and took a grateful sip and then put it down next to the couch. Sirius sat down next to it, back against the couch, and waited.

“What’s up?” Remus asked, because Remus always knew, Sirius thought, when something was up.

Sirius didn’t even know where to start.

“I’m sorry-” he began in a whisper, but Remus was shaking his head.

“Nope, stop, I already know what you’re going to say,” Remus said quietly back, and Sirius looked alarmed.

“What?” Sirius turned on the floor to face Remus, looking up at him in surprise.

“Do you want to forget it even happened?”

Sirius just stared at him, and then realized he wanted an answer. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”

Remus smiled, and Sirius, for some strange reason, felt like crying. So he nodded, and then got up.  
“See you in the morning, then.”

Remus gave him a small, concerned smile. “Yeah, goodnight.”

Sirius slunk back into the bathroom, and settled down on the towel again as Padfoot. It was cold, the towel was slightly wet, and a few moments after he lay down he was up again and padding out to the lounge. Remus had rolled over, curled up in a ball again to go back to sleep. Padfoot nudged his back with his nose and Remus turned, and gave a little huff of laughter at his pleading expression. He moved his legs over, and Padfoot jumped up, lying half on the couch and half draped over Remus’ legs. 

Remus looked down at him, putting a hand down to stroke his head. Padfoot tried, with all his doggy mind, to project at Remus everything he couldn’t say when he looked like Sirius. 

Thank you, and I’m sorry, and I love you. And Remus, twisted ‘round awkwardly to make room for him and half sitting up so he could pat his head, legs trapped under a pile of heavy dog, eyes heavy with sleep, just stroked Padfoot’s ears and looked him in the eyes and whispered, “Yeah, I know.”

 

Padfoot woke briefly the next morning to Remus trying to extract his legs from under him. He didn’t move, and eventually Remus got free and padded to the kitchen. Sirius watched him without lifting his head, as he poured water into a mug and then cast a heating charm over it and dropped in a teabag. He pricked up his ears a little as he saw him take out eggs and ham from the fridge, but it still didn’t warrant getting up. It was freezing in the flat and he was warm on his blanket.

He watched Remus make breakfast, shutting his eyes and pretending to snore every time Remus looked over. Remus dug around in the cupboards and found a frying pan that had seen better days, and Padfoot watched him perform an assortment of cleaning charms on it, then run it under water for at least 2 minutes, before putting it on the stove stop and chucking a few pieces of ham in.

The smell of the cooking ham wafted through the flat and James poked his nose around the door in due course. “Remus, are you cooking?” 

“No, Padfoot is, I’m just helping,” Remus drawled sarcastically.

Padfoot raised his head as if to say, “What, me?”

James wandered into the kitchen and sat on the table, watching as Remus levitated pieces of bread in a small circle around a ball of newspaper, and then set the newspaper on fire. James snorted.

“Who needs a toaster? Wait, is that our newspaper?”

Remus shrugged. “It was on our doorstep. You didn’t want to read it did you? You’re sitting on the sports section.” 

James pulled the newspaper out from under him and squinted at it without his glasses. “Muggle sports look so easy, the ball doesn’t even move on its own,” he declared, and put down the paper. 

Padfoot had jumped down off the couch and was standing next to Remus as he turned the ham over in the pan, looking up at him adoringly. Remus sighed and picked up a little piece and held it just above the dog’s head. Padfoot reached up and took it politely and swallowed it in one bite. Then he looked up at Remus again.

“No,” Remus told him. “You can have some more when you no longer have fur.”

Padfoot reluctantly turned tail and trotted into the bedroom, and a few thuds and stomps later, Sirius emerged, dressed and looking only slightly hung over. He dropped sulkily into a chair and watched as Remus put the ham onto a plate, rescued the toast that was starting to singe, and broke three eggs into the frying pan. 

“Where’d you learn to do all this?” he asked eventually.

Remus shrugged. “I didn’t. If it tastes terrible I’ll know it was wrong.” 

James slid off the table and got two mugs out of the cupboard, rinsed them, and then gestured to Remus’ empty one. “More tea?”

“Yeah, ta,” Remus replied, and James made the tea.

“Well, I feel useless,” Sirius announced.

“Should be used to that,” James grinned, and Sirius screwed up the sports section and threw it at his head.

 

Sirius left for the garage right after breakfast, needing some time to think. He’d never been very good at expressing his emotions, preferring to bottle them up and then drink them out. He was clever, but he wasn’t smart. People told him this often enough. However, Sirius could read people, and he could read Remus as well as any. 

Remus hadn’t been lying when he said he was okay with the kiss. Could he call it a kiss? It felt like just calling it a kiss wasn’t really doing it justice. And then there was the problem of his own feelings. Never mind Remus for a minute, Sirius was feeling pretty goddam confused. 

Since the guy in the bar, Sirius had been pushing to the back of his mind the idea that there was something in his nature that, to the right people, screamed ‘GAY’. But then, even if that was the case, did he mind? Hell, it would sure piss off his parents. He snorted at the idea of him bringing home a gay werewolf. 

And then he stopped that train of thought almost immediately, because the last thing he needed to be doing was picturing Remus as his anything, let alone his gay werewolf boyfriend. It scared him a little, that this thought didn’t scare him; the idea of coming home to Remus cooking dinner, making it up as he goes because, apparently, he has no idea what he’s doing. Waking up to Remus’ fluffy bed-hair on the pillow next to him. Always being around to stop Remus hurting himself on the full moon, and always being there to bandage his scratches and stroke his hair while he slept off the tiredness and dark circles under his eyes.

The trouble was, Sirius thought, that he could picture it. And the more he thought about it, the more right it felt.

By this time he’d reached the garage, and went in to find Barney stripping the spark plugs of a beat up car near the back of the shop. For a while, his mind was too busy taking in what Barney was showing him to think about Remus anymore. 

Barney left him alone in the shop to go and post some mail, and Sirius used the time to try and mend the cam chain. He tried the spell Remus had taught him for the jacket but it didn’t work. He resolved to ask Remus when he got home. In the meantime, he gave the rest of the engine a clean, and was polishing the spark plugs when a voice made his head jerk up.

“Wizard,” the voice said.

Sirius stared at the young, red-haired man in a sweater vest standing in the door of the garage. He looked guiltily around him but had no idea what the young man could be calling him out on, so he tried, “The bike? Yeah, she’s a beauty.”

“No, you.”

Damn, thought Sirius. “Uh, what do you mean?” he tried, and the man grinned and pulled out a wand from his belt. 

“It’s alright, me too.”

Sirius felt relief run through him and he smiled back at the man. “What gave me away?” 

The man pointed at Sirius’ wand sitting next to his toolbox. “Should be more careful,” he said, with a smile, and Sirius tucked the wand into the back of his jeans.

“What brings you here?” Sirius asked the man. 

“I work for the Ministry, in the Muggle artefacts division. Just started, actually. I’m looking for any sort of Muggle technology to give a presentation on, and I thought, what’s more interesting than cars? I’d love to own one, one day.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Sirius said, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans. “The bike’s mine, well, soon to be. I’m fixing her up. The guy who owned her couldn’t get the parts, but see, he doesn’t have the, shall we say, skill set that we do.” He grinned at the other man, who Sirius could now see was not much older than himself.

“Are you out of school yet?” the man asked, and Sirius pulled a face.

“One year to go, and then I’m gone. Did you go to Hogwarts?”

“Did indeed. Finished a few years ago, went straight into the Ministry. No school like it, believe you me.”

Sirius knew.

They stared at the bike for a couple of seconds, and then the man said wistfully, “Imagine if it could fly.”

Sirius looked at him. “Could probably do it. Charm it like a broomstick, only be a little more specific with the slow down speed up signals.”

The man nodded. “Would take time, I don’t think anyone’s done it. Not that I’ve heard of.”

Sirius grinned. “That only makes me want to do it more.”

The man smiled back. “That’s the spirit.”

“So what sort of thing are you after for the Ministry, anything I can help you with?” Sirius offered.

“Well, any old engine part will do. I just need to demonstrate how it works, and I can easily conjure some sort of simulation around the one part to show that.”

Sirius led the way to the back of the shop where there were various odds and ends of junk from old cars and bikes, and the man rummaged around for a bit and then held up a small cylindrical object. 

“What does this do?” he asked.

Sirius took it and inspected it. “It looks like a piston. This part goes in and out and pushes air inside, compressing it.” 

The man took it back, nodding wisely, and then held it at arms’ length, pointed his wand and said, “Wingardium Leviosa.” As the piston began to hover by itself, he added, “Erigo,” and the little piston started to pump in and out as it hovered in mid air.

Sirius stared, and the man looked proud of himself. “Simple animation charm,” he explained. “Recreates the movement the object has performed most.”

Sirius nodded. The sound of feet coming into the garage caused them both to jump, and the man quickly whispered, “Finite” and took the piston from the air. 

“Allo, who are you?” The man put on a pleasant smile and held out a hand. 

“Arthur Weasley, nice to meet you. I’m just looking to buy a part for a friend’s car, and this looks to be it.” Sirius was impressed.

“Ah, well then, you can ‘ave that for next to nothing, I’ve no use for it,” Barney said. “Couple of pounds and she’s yours.” 

Sirius watched as they headed towards the garage door, the man pulling a small purse from his pocket and handing over some Muggle coins. He walked back over to his bike, and when Arthur had finished talking to Barney, he came over again.

“Good luck with your bike,” he said, holding out a hand. “If you ever get her flying, look me up. I’d love to see it.”

“I will,” Sirius promised, taking Arthur’s hand. “Good to meet you, Arthur.”

“You too, uh?”

“Sirius Black,” Sirius supplied, and Arthur smiled.

“Good to meet you, Sirius Black.”

 

When Sirius entered the flat that afternoon, he only got one foot in the door before he had to stop and stare, because the flat was definitely not like this when he’d left that morning. There were three lawn chairs sitting around the table that were absolutely not there last time he’d looked, and there was a collection of faded cushions sitting on the couch. A sun umbrella stood jauntily in the corner, and James was sitting under it drinking a mug of tea. 

“What the fuck?” said Sirius, but the sight of James sipping tea under an indoor sun umbrella was too much, and he burst out laughing. He came in and shut the door behind him, and raised his eyebrows at Remus who was sitting at the table with a quill and a piece of parchment. An owl was perched on the windowsill, clearly awaiting Remus’ letter.

“Where did you get all this stuff?” Sirius laughed.

“The old biddy James is working for is having a clean out. Instead of putting it out with the rubbish, James asked if he could have it. The chairs are actually very comfy,” he said, wriggling around in his as if to prove the point.

“And what about the sun umbrella?” Sirius asked.

James shrugged. “I just liked it.”

Sirius shook his head, grinning, and went around the table to look over Remus’ shoulder. “Who’re you writing to?”

“Peter. Thought I’d better tell him to get his ass down here and join in on the marauding.”

“Here here!” called James from under the umbrella.

“Where are we all going to sleep?” Sirius pointed out the obvious, and James just flapped a hand.

“We’ll figure it out. You can always sleep in the shower, Pads,” he said with a smirk.

“Ha, ha ha, no,” Sirius shot back. Remus stifled a laugh.

 

When boredom overcame them in the hour before Sirius needed to be at work, the three of them wandered down to the Laundromat and sat in front of the little television, backs against the washers, looking up to where a man in flared jeans was singing about sunshine, moonlight, good times and boogies. 

“I don’t get it,” Remus confessed, after about a minute of watching in silence.

“Muggles,” Sirius shrugged, and they all nodded sagely.

They’d almost watched to the end of a song about a guy wanting his baby back (because any kind of fool can see, something something something, Sirius stopped listening) when they were snapped out of their daze by a tapping on the window. Their eyes all snapped right to where an owl was tapping on the glass storefront, a letter in its beak. 

James heaved himself up from where he was sitting and opened the door. Luckily they were the only ones in the place, because the bird flew right in and perched on a clothes rack, head tilted as if to say, “What in Merlin’s name are you listening to?”

“It’s from Peter,” James announced, and then read, 

“Dear Remus and James and Sirius,

Can’t wait to see you all. I will travel down on the 3 o clock train on Tuesday. You lot better meet me at the station or I’ll get lost.

Love, Peter.”

James finished reading and folded the paper, looking up at the other two and grinning. He and Sirius looked at each other, and then, perfectly in sync, said, “Brilliant.”

Remus rolled his eyes “That better not become a thing you do, or I’m moving out.”

James laughed. “Might come to that actually, where the fuck are we all going to sleep?”

“You’ve changed your tune,” said Remus, getting up from the ground where he’d been sitting against the dryer, and Sirius held out a hand to be helped up. “What happened to the hand-flapping-and-sorting –it-later-James of 2 hours ago?”

“He realized that he will be the one sleeping under the sun umbrella,” James said dolefully.

“It’s okay, Tuesday is… 3 days away. We’ll figure it out by then.”

“Speaking of sleep, uh, I was thinking of heading over to see Lily tonight? Won’t be back til morning, I guess.”

Sirius waggled his eyebrows and Remus just smirked. “Oh come on, it’s not like that. We have a deep connection-”

“Yeah you do,” Sirius interjected, and Remus burst out laughing.

“You’ll understand one day,” James said wisely. Sirius raised his eyebrows and Remus kept laughing. 

 

Sirius left for work, saying goodbye to James before he went. Remus walked with Sirius to the bar, leaving James to pack for Lily’s, and then stayed for a while, watching Sirius work and drinking cider like on the first night he’d shown up there. Sirius chatted to him when he could, which wasn’t often, being a Saturday night. Eventually, Remus got sick of being jostled and pushed around on his stool by the crowd, and motioned to Sirius that he was leaving. Sirius’ night was distinctly boring after that. 

He left the bar late, getting on towards eleven, and it had taken way longer than usual to clean up after the busiest night of the week. He pushed open the door to the flat and couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto his face. 

The room was softly lit, the bare bulb on the ceiling surrounded in a bubble-like charm that dulled the light, casting it warm and faintly yellow around the room. Remus was sitting at the table, feet up on a chair, reading a book. Two cups of tea sat on the table in front of him, one half drunk, the other full and still steaming.

“Honey, I’m home,” Sirius joked, and Remus, not looking up from his book, smiled.

“How was work, dear?” he shot back. 

Sirius threw his jacket onto the couch and picked up the tea gratefully. He took a sip and sighed. “It was about the opposite of how this tea tastes, which is pretty damn great.”

Remus put down his book and picked up his own mug, taking a sip.

They sat opposite each other at the little table, sipping their tea in comfortable silence, until Remus said, “Want to see something cool?”

“For the love of god, leave your trousers on,” Sirius said in mock horror as Remus got up from the table. Remus gave him the finger, and then headed towards the bedroom.

“Wait, is this going where I think it’s going?” Sirius continued, grinning, getting up from the table and following Remus into the bedroom. He stopped in surprise when he got to the door. The bed, before a reasonably small single, had grown mysteriously into a double.

“Wow, Remus, now I’m really getting ideas,” Sirius said, staring at the bed.

“Ha ha, but really. I thought you and James could top and tail easier if the bed was a reasonable size. Now we just need to find Peter somewhere to sleep, and we’ll be sorted.”

“How did you do it?” Sirius asked.

“It took me and James both to complete the spell. We used ‘engorgio’, just both at the same time, and thought of really big things. It took both our power to get it there. Took an hour.”

“Thought of really big things, aye?” Sirius smirked at him, and Remus just shook his head.

“What is it, innuendo hour?” 

“Come on, you enjoy it,” Sirius cajoled, and Remus just shook his head and wandered out of the bedroom. Sirius saw him hiding a smile.

Sirius made a half-assed attempt to clean up a bit, moving his clothing into a pile in the corner and pushing James’ suitcase into the wardrobe that he always intended to use. Somehow his clothing just ended up staying on the floor, and didn’t magically jump back into the wardrobe. He heard Remus go into the bathroom, and the sound of running water, and after a minute, “Ow, fuck.”

Sirius poked his head around the door to see Remus standing at the sink, gazing into the tiny, blurry mirror, and dabbing at a small cut on his cheek. He was holding a razor, shaving cream sitting on the little shelf in front of him. Sirius stepped into the room.

“Want an easier way?” he asked, and Remus jumped.

“God, don’t sneak up on me like that,” he admonished, and Sirius ignored him, taking the razor out of his hand and pointing to Remus’ wand.

“Don’t use this, use that. You’re a wizard Remus, really.”

Remus looked doubtful. “I’ve heard of those spells going very badly wrong. My dad’s friend almost lost his nose.”

“No offence to your dad, but his friend sounds like an idiot.”

He stepped closer and put a hand tentatively up to hold Remus’ face still. Slowly, Sirius went through the spell, showing Remus how to run the wand over his lower face and recite the incantation, one hand holding Remus’ chin, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact. When he was done, Sirius dropped his hand and stepped away. It looked better. Not that Remus had a massive amount of stubble before.

He looked younger, somehow. His hair could do with a cut, but actually, Sirius liked it long. It was almost rivalling his now, after Mrs Potter had cut it, but unlike his that fell in his face and lay flat against his head, Remus’ stood up not unlike a brush, and he was constantly running a hand over it to flatten it. Sirius enjoyed watching the futile attempts. He wondered if it would feel soft to run his hands through. He might have done, that night at the club. He wished he could remember.

“What?” Remus asked, and Sirius realized he was staring.

“Nothing,” he said, giving Remus a strained, almost sad half smile, and then turned to walk back into the lounge. 

He went into the little bedroom, which had seemed small before, and now that it was basically all bed seemed tiny, and lay down. A couple of minutes later, Remus poked his head in the door.

“Night, then,” he said.

“Yeah,” Sirius replied. “Night.”

 

James sauntered back into the flat at around lunch time. Sirius was enjoying his first day off in a while by adamantly staying in bed until at least 3 o clock. So of course, by half 11 Remus was banging on his door telling him to get up, he was wasting the day.

“Good!” Sirius yelled back. “I like wasting days, not everyone’s a compulsive busy-body like you!”

Remus had just sighed audibly from the other side of the door, but left Sirius alone. 

James sauntered in around 2 o clock, and came in to Sirius’ room. Sirius wasn’t exactly asleep, but he didn’t really want to be awake either.

James, ever sensitive to Sirius’ needs, came slamming in and flopped down onto the bed, setting himself back against the headboard and folding his arms.

“Alright, Pads? How’s the bed? Lots of room for nefarious purposes now,” James winked at him, and Sirius, staring balefully at him over the top of the blankets, groaned.

James just laughed. “Go on, ask me how my night was.”

Sirius sighed and poked his head out fully to ask, “How was your night, James?”

“It was, my old chum, utterly marvelous.”

“Did you, shall we say, consummate the relationship?” Sirius asked slyly.

James just rolled his eyes. “No, we didn’t, we stayed up late talking and held hands and then she fell asleep with her head on my lap, so I carried her to bed and then went to sleep in the guest room, because unlike you, I am a good person.”

Sirius looked unimpressed. “Glad you had fun, then,” he said, burrowing back under the covers.

James didn’t take the hint. “How was your night?”

Sirius jut grunted. 

“That good, huh? What, you and Moony didn’t hit the town and pick up some chicks?”

“Don’t say ‘chicks’, and don’t say ‘hit the town’, actually just don’t talk, that’d be great, thanks James,” Sirius replied, muffled by the duvet.

James sighed. “Fine, but just know that I will be a supportive listener when you finally find someone who doesn’t bore you.” 

He heaved himself up off the bed and made sure to bang the door on the way out.

 

Sirius got up at 3 on the dot, and made toast. James had gone out, and Remus was reading on the sofa. The toast was burnt on one side and he looked over at Remus. 

“No,” Remus replied, without looking up. Sirius huffed and ate the blackened toast. 

James came banging in when Sirius was halfway through his third and decidedly better cooked piece of toast, and engrossed in the motorbike manual. He looked up as James declared, “Boys, I bring delightful news.”

“Has she dropped dead?” Sirius grinned, and James ignored him. 

“Old Mrs Sundry,” James began, “gave me a bed.”

Sirius just stared at him. “I don’t- I can’t- there are so many jokes I could make with that.”

“Well go on then, get it over with,” James sighed.

“Moment’s passed,” Sirius grumbled.

“As I was saying,” James went on as he crossed to the couch and sat down on the arm-rest, addressing Remus now as Sirius clearly wasn’t being supportive enough, “she’s cleaning re-doing her guest room, and she’s decided instead of a single she wants a double. Her neighbour wants the frame, and not the mattress, so I asked how much she wanted for it. She said ten pounds and it’s mine. So boys, do we have ten pounds?”

Sirius shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out a few coins, and Remus nodded. “As long as I can have it and Peter takes the couch.”

“Or James,” Sirius put in, and the other two looked at him. 

“What, and Remus takes the other half of your bed?” James looked hurt.

“You kick me,” Sirius said plaintively. 

“You deserve it!”

“And that,” Sirius gestured to Remus, “is why I’d rather have Remus.”

James shrugged. “Least I don’t have to wake up with less than a fifth of the bed ‘cause you’re spread out over the other four fifths.”

Remus, who at first looked happy to be sleeping in a proper bed and not a mattress on the floor, was looking ever more doubtful.

Sirius grinned at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a courteous sleeper for you.” 

James looked offended. “Gratitude,” he huffed, and Sirius got up and went over to him, standing behind him on the couch and wrapping his arms around his chest. 

“It’s alright Prongs, you’re still my stag.”

James choked a laugh, and gave Sirius’ arm a pat. “Thanks, mate.”

“So when do we get it? The bed, I mean,” Remus asked.

“Oh, it’s outside.”

The other two stared at him. Remus got up and crossed the room, stuck his head out the door and said, “Oh.”

Sirius followed, and indeed there was a mattress leaning on the wall just outside the door.

“You carried it through the streets of London, by yourself?”

“It wasn’t very heavy,” James shrugged.

Remus started to laugh. “God, that must have looked ridiculous.”

Sirius got a mental image of James lugging the stupid thing through the streets, and then, “Oh my god, how did you get it up the stairs?”

Both he and Remus were clutching the door, laughing their heads off, and James just looked confused. “Well, are you going to bring it in? I got it this far.” 

And that just made them laugh harder. 

Eventually they got it inside. Getting it in the door was a bit of a mission. James was right, it wasn’t heavy, just an awkward shape. 

They laid it down under the picnic umbrella, and James lay down on it. 

“It’s good. Now one of you boys get me a cocktail I feel like it would perfect the image.”

Sirius snorted and Remus went back to his book.

“By the way,” James said, “we’re having dinner at my parents’ tonight. Sirius, wash your hair and Remus… just be yourself.”

Sirius looked at him. “What’s wrong with my hair?” He ran a hand threw it and winced as it yanked through the tangles. “Yeah, okay I’ll wash my hair.”

 

Dinner was a nice change from their usual diet, with Mrs Potter putting on an array of vegetables and perfectly cooked roast meat. The boys all dug in, and Mr Potter said it was like they hadn’t eaten in a week. Mrs Potter looked concerned, and all three rushed to assure her that they were, contrary to how it looked, eating.

After dinner Sirius retrieved his broom from under James’ bed, where it’d been since he’d moved in with the Potters months ago. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed this thing,” he said, holding it reverently as James rummaged in his cupboard and pulled down his from the top shelf. 

“My old one’s in the hall cupboard, you can use it, Remus. It still flies okay.”

Remus looked a bit apprehensive but he followed him downstairs and took the broom from James when he found it, and after saying their goodbyes to James’ parents, took off into the dark sky. Remus hung back, and as James whooped and hollered as he flew out in front, diving and spinning and generally scaring the shit out of everyone else, and Sirius circled back to talk to him.

“What’s up, Moony?”

“Er, nothing… Does he always fly like this?”

“Yeah, generally. Still beats me how he made it as a chaser, he’s more erratic than the quaffle.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s good at it,” Remus suggested.

 

Remus and Sirius slept soundly in their room that night, until they were woken by a knock on their bedroom door at around nine. Sirius growled and Remus groaned, and the knock came again. Sirius raised a murderous head to look at Remus until he gave in and slipped out of bed, leaving Sirius still tangled in the blankets, to open the bedroom door. On the other side stood a stag.

Remus shut the door. 

A second later, James’ voice came from the other side of the door. “Aw, come on Remus. It’s funny! Sirius would have laughed!”

Sirius called back from where he was still under the blankets, voice muffled. “It is before ten o’clock in the morning, Prongs, I would not have laughed.”

James, on the other side of the door, did. Remus debated getting back into bed, but decided that if he did, he’d just have to go through the process of getting up all over again later. 

“Aren’t you going to the garage today?” he asked the Sirius shaped lump in the bed. 

The lump wriggled a bit, and didn’t answer. Remus sighed and went out into the kitchen. James was eating toast and butter, leaning on the counter and chewing with his mouth open. Remus deliberately didn’t look at the half-digested mouthful James was currently working on, and made tea. 

Sirius stumbled out, bleary eyed and mostly dressed, tugging on his left boot while saying something about, “garage… know where to find me…”

“Don’t forget we gotta meet Peter at the train at 3!” James called after him.

“What’s up with him?” Remus asked when Sirius had slammed out of the apartment.

James shrugged. “God knows.”

Sirius walked to the garage slowly, kicking at stones and planning his day. He had until three to fix the parts of the bike he’d read up on, and he was sure he knew the spells to do it. The garage was open and Barney was tinkering with another bike, decidedly less pretty than Sirius’, he thought to himself, and gave Sirius a wave as he came in.

Sirius worked quietly on the bike, doing the odd job for Barney when he needed it, until around lunch time, when he was interrupted by a shadow falling over his work. He looked up and was surprised to see Remus standing over him with a paper bag. 

“Oh, hello,” Sirius said. 

“Hi. I brought you lunch?” Remus replied, holding up the bag, as if it needed explaining.

Sirius hauled himself to his feet and took it, opening it to see a sandwich and a raspberry bun. He smiled at Remus and wondered why the raspberry bun made him kind of sad inside. 

“Thanks, mate. Have you eaten?”

Remus nodded. “But I can stay for a while, if you want company. I mean, only if you’re not busy…”

Sirius nodded and jumped up to sit on a bench, and Remus moved to lean beside him.

“So what did I do to deserve this?” Sirius asked. Remus just shrugged.

“You didn’t eat breakfast,” he replied, and then after a pause, “everything okay?”

Sirius, mouth full of ham and cheese sandwich, frowned a little, swallowed, and nodded. “Yeah fine.” He finished the sandwich and then took out the bun, tearing it in half and holding out the half with the most icing to Remus. Remus shook his head, but Sirius didn’t withdraw his hand, so Remus sighed and took it. 

They ate in silence for a minute, Remus pulling his half of the bun apart and eating it in small bites, and Sirius shoving the whole half in his mouth and then having to chew for a while to make it go down. When he was finished, he pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket, and then looked around for the lighter. Remus bent to pick it up off the ground by the bike, and Sirius took it from him and lit up. He was surprised to see, a couple of puffs in, Remus look at him and hold out his hand.

Sirius hesitantly took the cigarette from his mouth, but, no, Remus couldn’t possibly want that. But Remus raised his eyebrows, and so Sirius handed it over mutely. Remus took it between his fingers and put it to his lips, and Sirius was aware he was staring as he watched him breathe deeply and then blow the plume of smoke out of his mouth, lips forming a perfect little ‘o’ as he did. Sirius didn’t have the heart to light another one. He was running low. Besides. 

Remus glanced sideways and saw Sirius staring. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and shrugged, half smiling. “What?”

“I… nothing. Nothing, I’m fine. I mean, you, smoking, is fine.”

Remus raised an eyebrow and put the cigarette back between his lips. Sirius stared resolutely down at his knees. 

Remus took a couple more drags, and then sighed. “I should let you get back to work.” 

Sirius looked up, trying desperately to think of a way to say, “No, stay,” without it sounding like “No, stay.” He couldn’t think of one, so he just nodded, swinging his legs and not looking at Remus’ mouth. Remus pushed away from the bench and turned to face Sirius, stepping closer so he was standing between the other boy’s legs, took the cigarette from between his lips, and held it back out to Sirius. He was so close Sirius could taste the smoke as he breathed out, and he took the out-held cigarette dumbly, eyes glued to Remus’. 

Remus smirked. “See you at 3. Don’t be late.”

And then he stepped away, leaving Sirius in a cloud of smoke and confusion.

“Thanks for lunch,” Sirius called pathetically as Remus sauntered from the garage. 

Sirius sat where he was for another minute, heart, for some reason, pounding at his rib cage. He took another puff of the cigarette, and wondered if it fit so easily between his lips as it had done Remus’. Shaking his head he dropped it irreverently to the floor. He jumped down off the bench and ground it into the concrete with his heel, feeling almost a sense of regret. 

At twenty to three, Sirius opened the door to the stairwell just as Remus and James were clattering down it, and they set off in the direction of the station. Sirius sauntered out in front, resisting the urge to light a cigarette, and listened to James and Remus’ easy chatter. 

The station was grey and tired, a torn newspaper flapping uselessly around the platform as they climbed the few steps to wait on the platform. Remus took a seat, hands in his pockets as the wind picked up on the overcast day. James leaned back on the wall of the station house and eyed Sirius, who was aimlessly kicking at a loose stone at the edge of the platform, but didn’t say anything. Eventually Sirius got bored and slumped down to sit on the bench, at the opposite end to Remus. If Remus noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Sirius could see him out of the corner of his eye. He was wearing his pensive expression, the one he used when he was deep in thought, and Sirius would have paid money to know what about. To distract himself, Sirius pulled the lighter out of his pocket, flicking it on then off, on then off. Remus glanced sideways at him, and Sirius stopped. He looked both ways along the track, and sighed.

“We still have ten minutes,” Remus supplied, and Sirius huffed. Remus smiled. “Ever impatient, aren’t we.”

Sirius didn’t disagree. The platform was slowly filling, with businessmen in suits taking the early train home, and women with children clutched tightly at the hands. Leaning on the wall, James was making popping sounds with his mouth and gazing down the track, and he was the first to see the train.

“Look alive, lads,” he drawled.

The train glided into the station and ground to an abrupt halt in front of the platform. People filed off, pushing their cases and themselves out the narrow doors with little regard for anyone else. Squished in between them all, suitcase clutched in one hand, was Peter. James grinned and raised a hand to wave at him, and Peter’s face lit up in a smile and he trotted towards them, case banging against the side of his leg. James pushed himself off the wall as he approached, and greeted him with a slap on the back. Peter had grown over the short time Sirius hadn’t seen him, although appeared no leaner. He was a little less than a head shorter than James now. Still a good head shorter than Remus, but most people were. 

Peter beamed around at them all, face slightly red and blond hair mussed as usual. Sirius offered him a half smile as he got up from the bench. “Welcome back, Wormtail.” 

“Good to be back,” Peter replied.

“How was Scotland?” Remus asked, taking Peter’s case. 

“It was alright, in the end,” Peter said. “The food was good.”

“How was the train ride?” Sirius asked, taking the case off Remus, who rolled his eyes but let him take it.

“Crowded. I don’t like Muggle transport, it’s smelly and pushy and slow.”

They all nodded agreement. “Ah well,” James said, “Homeward?”

They set off at a brisk walk out of the station. The wind had picked up, chilling them through their coats and blowing Sirius’ hair into his eyes. Remus pushed his hands into his pockets, but walked next to Sirius close enough that their shoulders would bump occasionally. Peter chatted happily about Scotland, with James butting in with questions or anecdotes of his own every few seconds.

After fifteen minutes of being harassed by the numbing wind, they were climbing the stairs to the flat. Once James had got the door open, after Sirius had searched his pockets twice to find the key, Peter stepped inside for the first time and looked around in wonderment.

“It’s not much,” Sirius said. 

“But it’s ours,” James finished.

Sirius looked over at James to find the other boy already looking back at him, a small smile on his face. Sirius ducked his head.

Remus took the suitcase back, icy fingers brushing against the back of Sirius’ hand. He put it down by the couch, and set the kettle boiling with a flick of his wand. Then, shivering in the chilly flat, he cast a couple of heating charms in the hope they’d restore some sense of life into the room. It helped a little.

Sirius dropped into the ugly chair and crossed his feet at the ankles. “So Peter, you get the couch. Unless James wants to share,” he added, and James snorted. 

“Sorry Peter, I don’t like you that much.”

“It’s okay, I’ll probably fit the couch better than you do. Shorter.”

Remus put a cup of tea down in front of Sirius, even though he hadn’t asked for one. Sirius used it to warm his hands. “Let’s go out tonight,” he said on impulse. “Show Peter the town.”

Peter looked excitedly at James, and James shrugged. “Sure.”

“Bring Lily,” Sirius suggested, and James went a little red.

“D’you think she’d want to?”

“What, come out with a great bunch of guys like us?” Sirius said, trying out his most charming smile on James. Remus made a small noise into his tea, and Sirius fixed a stern look on him.

“Er, yeah, what he said,” Remus tried, wincing. 

Sirius kicked his feet up on the chair Remus was about to sit in, and pulled out a cigarette. Peter watched in awe as Sirius lit it and made a show of taking the first drag. James rolled his eyes. “When Sirius is done showing off…”

Sirius gave him the finger, and James smirked. “In that case, I’ll give Lily a call.”

“Case you haven’t noticed, we don’t have a phone,” Sirius pointed out unnecessarily.

“I’ll use the telephone box on the street, git,” James shot back, and headed towards the door. “Back in ten.”

He was back in twenty, by which time Remus had started boiling potatoes and Sirius had been sent to the shop for something to have with them.

“You know that’s dangerous right?” James said when Remus told him. “He’ll probably come back with a bottle of whiskey.”

Sirius didn’t come back with whiskey, he came back with ice-cream, a tomato and a sponge. 

“What do you want me to do with sponge?” Remus asked. 

“What can’t you do with a sponge?” Sirius replied.

So they ate potatoes with a quarter of a tomato each, and then James stood and said, “Right, I’m off to pick up Lily. Meet you back here in half an hour.” 

Remus picked up the plates and performed a lazy scourgify, to Sirius’ protest of “Use the sponge!” and then levitated them into the cupboard. 

“What should I wear?” Peter asked, and Sirius grinned almost menacingly.

“What did you bring?” he asked, and crossed the room to the suitcase. He popped open the tabs and looked inside. The first thing he pulled out was a pair of jeans identical to the ones Peter was already wearing, so he threw them back onto the couch and tried again. This time he got a plain white button down, again, like Peter was already wearing. Sirius sighed.

Then he stood still for a second, looked over at Peter, and then stepped over to unbutton the top few buttons on the other boy’s shirt. Peter looked sort of worried, and Remus watched curiously as Sirius yanked Peter’s shirt out from the waistband of his jeans. Then, he put a hand up to mess Peter’s hair just the right amount and then stood back to admire his handy work. As the finishing touch, he shrugged off his leather jacket and held it out. Peter’s eyes widened. 

“Really?” 

Sirius just shrugged again, and gave the jacket a little shake. “Go on.”

Remus’ eyebrows had shot up almost into his hair line, and he watched in silence as Peter pulled on the slightly-too-big jacket and beamed at Sirius. “Thanks,” he said, and then almost skipped into the bathroom to admire it in the mirror, leaving Sirius standing awkwardly. Remus hid his smile by ducking his head, and Sirius just shoved his hands in his pockets, took them out again, and then walked quickly into his room.

James got back eventually, coming through the door with Lily close behind him. She looked just the same, dressed in a pale blue dress with a dark grey coat over it, her bright red hair draped over one shoulder. Her lips were a little blue from the cold, but she smiled through chattering teeth. Sirius came out of the bedroom to lean on the doorframe as they all said their greetings, and then James, rocking on his toes, said, “Right then, shall we be off?”

“Where are we going exactly?” Peter asked as they traipsed down the stairs.

“I know a place,” Sirius replied, vaguely.

Outside it was still windy, a chill whipping over top of the boys’ coats and making Sirius hug his bare arms against himself. Remus was walking next to him, hair whipped up in a quiff that would have made Sirius laugh if he hadn’t been so cold. James and Lily were hand in hand, leaning over to talking quietly into each other’s ears, although the wind covered their conversation anyway. Peter was bouncing along slightly in front, still wearing the jacket, and kept turning around to grin at the others every few minutes.

Sirius glanced to the left and saw Remus looking at him, an amused expression on his face.

“What?”

“You look freezing,” was all Remus said. Sirius didn’t deny it, but he stopped rubbing his arms. 

They rounded a bend in the road and saw the bar, all quickening their steps to get out of the cold. Lily was looking at the entrance somewhat in awe, and James had a protective arm around her waist. 

“Have you really never been to a bar before?” Sirius asked her. James gave him a look, and Sirius put up his hands. “Just asking.”

“I’ve never had need or opportunity,” Lily replied, shrugging. “Hey, maybe the experience will help turn me into a well-rounded individual,” she said with a laugh.

James looked at her fondly. “You’re already rounded enough for me,” he said, and then, at Sirius’ snort and Remus’ raised eyebrows, “I mean, well-rounded, as in, personality, er, I didn’t mean you’re fat. You’re not fat, Lily, you’re perfect, I mean even if you were fat I’d still like you, but I mean, oh fuck it you know what I mean.”

Lily laughed and leant her head against his shoulder. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

They pushed open the door to the bar and were instantly met with the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol. Lily wrinkled her nose, but she was smiling. It wasn’t packed, but there were enough people to make moving through the room to the bar slightly difficult. Eventually Sirius ordered them all a drink, with a flash of Sirius’ fake ID and a quiet “confundus” from James in the corner of the barman’s vision.

They spent a while by the bar itself, sipping drinks and talking, until James spotted a group leaving a booth near the back of the room. 

“Come on, let’s grab their spot,” he said, and took Lily’s hand to lead her to the booth. The rest moved to follow, but Remus, sliding down off his barstool, stumbled and bumped into a tall guy with a cigarette between his teeth and hair greased back, with a mean glint in his eye as he turned to stare at Remus. 

“Watch where you’re going,” he said, so quietly Sirius, who had turned and seen it, almost couldn’t hear. Remus went bright red and ducked his head.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, and as he moved hurriedly away, still staring at the ground and beetroot red, the guy muttered something else.

“Fag.”

Remus paused, but didn’t look up, didn’t turn. Sirius though, without hesitating a second, swung around and decked the guy full in the face, knocking him to the ground 

Lily, James and Peter turned to stare in shock at the thud, and Sirius wheeled back round to face them, a maniacal grin on his face. The guy was beginning to stand up behind him, and Sirius, flushed and looking just a little bit insane, said, “Fuckin’ better run boys!”

And they ran. 

Sirius grabbed for Remus’ arm and yanked him along behind, careering through people towards the door. Peter was hot on his heels, and James was holding tightly to Lily’s hand as they zigzagged through the maze of people. They all burst out onto the freezing street and didn’t stop running, Peter laughing so hard he was finding it hard to keep up, Lily’s cheeks rosy pink in the cold and James shaking his head and yelling at Sirius to slow down, and Sirius, who’s hand had slipped down Remus’ arm to clutch tightly at his hand, still pulling Remus along and laughing, laughing. 

It was two blocks before they slowed down, Peter now gasping for air, Lily’s whole face a lovely rosy pink, and Sirius’ hand loosened its grasp on Remus’.

“What in God’s name was that about?” James asked, when they’d all stopped gasping for breath. 

“That guy was a tosser, that’s what that was about,” Sirius shot back, and Remus ducked his head.

“You shouldn’t have, Sirius. I didn’t mind.”

“Of course you minded, don’t give me that crap,” Sirius replied, shaking his head in confusion. “You just hate trouble.”

James, Lily and Peter were looking more and more confused by the second, so Remus, sighing, turned to them. “I tripped and walked into that guy, and he was a bit rude-”

“A bit rude!?” Sirius exclaimed, looking outraged again, “He was a fuck-”

“For God’s sake, Sirius, don’t fucking swear so much!” James burst out, making what was meant to be a subtle gesture towards Lily.

Sirius decided to overlook the obvious flaw in that argument and said instead, “That arsehole called Remus a fag.”

There was a shocked sort of silence for a couple of seconds. Sirius looked a little proud to have caused that sort of reaction, and Remus just looked embarrassed. Nobody really said anything, until James said quietly, “Sirius, why does trouble follow you like you’re its mother?”

Sirius shrugged. Peter shuffled his feet on the cold concrete, and then said quietly, “We sort of enjoy it though, don’t we?”

A small snuffle from Remus made Sirius look up quickly, but instead of what he was expecting, Remus was starting to smile. And then he laughed, a little guiltily, and when Sirius turned in confusion to James, both him and Lily were trying to hold back giggles. 

“Shall we… go home?” James suggested. 

“Yeah, let’s go home,” Sirius agreed, and James tried hard not to look surprised.

They walked sort of forlornly back along the street the way they’d come. On the doorstep of the flat, James announced he was going to walk Lily home, so the others left them to traipse upstairs. Sirius unlocked the door and let them in, just as Peter cried, “Dibs on first shower!” 

He trotted off to the bathroom, and Sirius sighed and followed to show him the charm for the hot water. When he came back out, Remus was leaning on the back of the couch, staring into space. 

“Would you… like a cup of tea?” Sirius said, uncertainly. He wasn’t even sure he could make tea. 

Remus smiled wryly at him. “I’m not in shock, you know. I don’t need a blanket and a warm drink. Do you even know how to make tea?”

Sirius surprised himself and made tea, and they sat side by side on the couch, sipping. They could hear Peter humming tunelessly to himself in the shower, and then Remus said, “Thanks.”

“What, for punching that guy?”

“Yeah. You shouldn’t have, but thanks.”

“Yeah well… you’re welcome.”

“Sirius… did you punch him because of what he said, or because he said it to me?”

Sirius frowned into his tea. “What do you mean?”

Sighing, Remus closed his eyes for a second, and then said, “I mean, did you punch him because you were appalled that he would think I was a fag- I mean, that I’m gay, or did you punch him just because you were standing up for me?”

Sirius had to think about that for a second, and then he said slowly, “I punched him because he was mean you. You know, it wouldn’t make a difference if you were actually gay or not. He was still a tool, and he was still throwing that word at you like it was an insult.”

Nodding, Remus took a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay good. I mean, that’s good to know.”

They sipped in silence for another couple of seconds, and then Sirius said, “You know, if you are…”

And Remus said, “Yeah.”

And Sirius said, “Yeah.”

And then the water stopped running and Peter came out of the shower and Sirius stood abruptly and went into the bedroom. He lay down on the bed and tried to read his motorcycle manual, but kept rereading the same sentence. Half an hour later he heard James come in, and a muffled, “Where’s Sirius?” He didn’t hear the response, and kept reading. 

Eventually he heard the creak of the floorboards outside the bedroom door, and Remus say, “Night, guys.” The door opened and Remus slipped through, and Sirius put down the book.

“So are you?”

Remus looked sort of like a deer caught in the headlights for a second, and then he winced. “I don’t know.”

“But do you like girls?”

“I don’t know. I mean, well, they’re alright. I’ve never kissed one, they might be great.”

Sirius nodded and then stopped. “But you’ve never kissed a boy either, so how do you know they’re great?”

Remus just stared. And then Sirius got it.

“Oh. You’re counting that?”

Looking ever more uncomfortable, Remus looked down, didn’t reply, and Sirius scrambled to sit up on his knees, leaning towards Remus. “No, that’s okay, I’m sorry, God that sounded shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought… Well, I thought we were going to forget that ever happened.”

“And you can, if you want. But it cleared a lot of things up, I think, for me.”

“Right. Right, yeah, that’s good. That’s great, I’m happy I helped, then?” Sirius said with an embarrassed smile. 

“Thanks,” Remus smiled back, “I appreciate the support. But, um, can it be… quiet support? I don’t really think anyone else has to know just yet.”

“Oh fuck, yeah, of course, not telling a soul,” Sirius agreed, and then, “But, I mean, just out of curiosity, is this a specific gay thing or a... boys in general gay thing?”

Frowning a little, Remus asked, “What, you mean, am I into you or just all boys?”

“Um, yes?” Sirius winced, realizing how that sounded.

“Well, you’re alright. I guess. I think I just like them all.”

Sirius tried not to look disappointed. “Right, okay. Righty-ho then.”

It was awkward for a little moment after that, and then Remus stood up and started to take off his shirt. Sirius stared and then quickly averted his gaze. Remus, even with his back to him, seemed to guess that was his reaction, and said, “It doesn’t change things. I’m still the same. You can safely sleep in the same bed as me, don’t worry.”

Sirius snorted. “I know. You’re still safer than James.”

Remus huffed a laugh and then, once he’d tugged on his pajamas, crawled into the side of the bed Sirius was on. “Move over,” he said, and Sirius moved over.

He curled up on the other side of the bed, hugging his knees to his chest. “You did that so you’d get the side I’d already warmed, didn’t you?” he said after a couple of seconds of lying on the cold side. 

Remus smirked. “Yep.”

“Fuck you,” Sirius smiled, and turned out the light. 

 

Sirius spent the next day in a sort of haze, mind wheeling around the events of the night before. He replayed in his mind the night he’d kissed Remus. What he could remember, anyhow. Which, granted, was most of it, but he was still hazy on the details of how they’d actually come to be kissing. He knew it was him that had started it, it had to have been. Remus just wouldn’t. He wondered what on earth had run through his head that had made him think kissing Remus was exactly what he should be doing right then. The idea that some other guy in some other club could have been the one to make Remus rethink things made Sirius’ hands clench into fists and an awful twisting feeling come into his stomach. The idea of Remus being with another girl had always sort of annoyed Sirius, because none of them were good enough. Sirius should have a say in who Remus gave a part of himself. It was what friends were for. And now the idea of Remus with anyone else, male or female, made his skin crawl. He was Remus’ gay epiphany. Nobody else should be allowed.

He remembered how Remus had looked, flushed and tousled hair and drunk and happy, like a puppy the first time it walks on grass, or a kid when their mum tells them they can have ice cream for dinner. He remembered the curve of Remus’ mouth under his, and the feeling of warm skin under his fingertips as he held him by his hips. And then Remus walked into the kitchen where he was standing, frowned quizzically at Sirius aimlessly stirring a cup of hot water as he stared out the window, and Sirius snapped out of it.

 

At the garage, Sirius spent a while just polishing the exhaust on the bike and thinking about all the years he’d been friends with Remus. It was a fact of Sirius’ personality that he had always wanted, in some weird and possibly narcissistic way, to be special, and for some reason especially to Remus. Anyone special to Remus had to be worth something, he’d always reasoned, because Remus was just such a damn good person. He knew he was special to James, they were practically joined at the hip, and now James had Lily, and it hadn’t changed the ‘him and James’, but it had made him realize that things weren’t going to be the same forever. 

As for relationships of his own… it was simply that no one seemed good enough. He didn’t have high standards, not in his own mind, he just couldn’t see himself with anyone for any length of time. They were boring, or they were too easy, or too much work. Nancy at the bar, for example. She’d be easy enough to get, he mused, but tricky to keep. At school, he wasn’t particularly close with anyone except his friends. His family had let him down, and he didn’t like to admit it, but it had made him wary. He knew he’d one day have to let someone else into his heart, someone that wasn’t James or Remus or Peter, but it wasn’t a thing he was going to find easy. 

But what if, Sirius thought, he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to picture himself with Remus, because in a practical sense, they already were. They lived together, they spent time together, they might as well be dating. The comparison was a long shot, Sirius knew, but he was generalizing. And really, if he was going to be with a boy, he’d be with Remus. And that way, he wouldn’t have to give Remus up to anyone else. It was appealing, not only for convenience, Sirius realized, but also because he liked the idea of it. When James had mentioned Nancy in that way at the bar, he’d felt nothing. He couldn’t imagine pushing her up against a wall and kissing her, or pulling him onto the back of his bike and tearing through the streets of London in the dark. He couldn’t picture coming home to a warm cup of tea with the lights dimmed, her reading at the table and calling him honey. It almost made him cringe. And then he realized he’d just described his exact homecoming from a few days ago, to Remus.

Barney interrupted his thoughts, looming over the bike and making Sirius jump. “I’ll be late to open tomorrow, ‘bout 1 o’clock. Gotta get me teeth seen to.” Sirius nodded and put down the rag he’d been polishing the exhaust with for the last ten minutes, and Barney gave him a concerned look but didn’t say anything.

Late afternoon, he walked home the long way, around the block and then down a few side streets, not eager to be around the company of people. And what had Remus meant by saying Sirius was ‘alright’? Sirius wasn’t a particularly modest person, he knew he was attractive. And hell, Remus had been friends with him since the start of school, out of anyone Remus should know he was a little more than alright. Maybe Sirius was only attractive to girls? But then, Remus had been flirting, Sirius was sure of it. The thing with the cigarette at the garage, Sirius was finding that hard to let go of.

When he let himself into the flat, nobody was there. Someone had been grocery shopping, and Sirius made himself a sandwich and then went downstairs to the Laundromat. It felt exactly like it had when Sirius had been alone, before James had, one by one, moved all the important people back into Sirius’ life. He didn’t like it. The television was playing infomercials; an ad for cigarettes, a new wonder mop, a roller that removed fluff from your clothing. Sirius thought that if he had money, he would probably just buy a new outfit for every day of the week, screw the roller.

That’s where Remus found him, on the ground, back against a dryer, staring at the lady on the screen as she rolled the lint off her arm and then smiled dreamily into the camera. 

“What’s on?” Remus said, and Sirius jumped, hitting his elbow on a dryer door. 

“Um, rollers,” Sirius said, recovering and then gesturing at the screen. “Where’s everyone?”

“James went to Lily’s for the night, Pete’s staying at his aunts, and I went to the park.”

“Oh, the park. Lovely,” Sirius said, for want of something to say. Remus nodded awkwardly and then looked like he was weighing up the idea of sitting down next to him. Sirius saved him the trouble and stood up.

“I better get to work, I guess,” he said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Oh, yeah, okay. Want me to wait up for you?” He was smiling and looking at Sirius like he wasn’t completely worthless. Sirius didn’t want to nod, didn’t want to be a pain, but he did, and Remus nodded back, and said, “Okay,” and Sirius went to the bar. When his boss came in after his shift to clear the till, he told Sirius he could have Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays and his usual Sundays off. Sirius had agreed instantly, the idea of working less having become more appealing by the second since James had mentioned it. 

Just like he’d promised, Remus was waiting up when he got home, feet up on the couch reading.

“Hey,” Sirius said, shutting the door behind him and shrugging off his jacket.

“Hey,” Remus smiled up from his book at him. “I made dinner.” He gestured to the bench where a plate was sitting with an obvious insulation charm distorting the air around it. On closer inspection, Sirius discovered it was spaghetti bolognaise. It was also delicious.

Remus didn’t move from his book while Sirius ate, and still didn’t when Sirius got up to wash his plate with a quick ‘Scourgify’, and then wander across the room to the bathroom.

As he stood under the shower, Sirius wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him before. He and Remus were sort of perfect for each other. A little voice at the back of Sirius’ head, one that had been there all day, was incessantly whispering, ‘But Sirius, you’re not gay. Are you?’ and instead of shutting it out or ignoring it, Sirius stopped, turned to the voice and said, ‘For Remus, maybe I am. For Remus, I’d be anything. So there.’ The voice stopped. Sirius got out of the shower.

Wrapped in a towel, Sirius marched out into the lounge, and then thought perhaps this was the sort of thing he’d better do clothed, and marched into the bedroom. He threw on pajama pants and an old t-shirt of James’, and then went back out to find Remus still reading. Clearing his throat, Sirius waited. Remus looked up, and Sirius began.

“So I’ve been thinking. We’ve been friends for as long as I want to remember. The fact that you’re gay, or whatever you are, doesn’t change that, not in a bad way anyway. But I’ve been thinking, that maybe I don’t want to be with people that aren’t you or James or Peter, and that maybe if I was to be with you, like, with with, not just friends, that maybe it would be okay. Maybe it would be great. I know you can put up with me, and you know that I’ll punch people that call you names, and I think we would be good together. So. What do you think?”

There was a long silence.

“Are you drunk?” Remus finally asked. He just sounded confused.

“I- what?”

“Okay, ha ha Sirius, very funny.” Remus smiled wryly and looked back at his book. 

“No, Remus, I’m serious. I think I want to be with you. I think we’d be good together.”

“Sirius, you’re not gay.”

“But maybe I am. I don’t like girls, they’re boring, or they’re too hard, or they don’t smell right.”

Raising his eyebrows, Remus put down his book.

“Really, though. Why are you doing this?” Remus asked, still just looking confused.

“Because….” And now Sirius was stuck. Maybe he was drunk. “I wanted you to know. Because I thought maybe you’d say you think we’d be good together too.” 

It was at that point that Remus realized Sirius wasn’t kidding. Then his face darkened and he leant back on the couch. “So it’s convenient?”

“What?”

“Me, deciding I’m gay. Awfully convenient for you. Good timing. You know, you can’t just use me as a way to determine your own preferences, it doesn’t work like that. Have you thought about how much this will fuck everything up when you’re bored of me?”

Sirius was dumbstruck. “No, no you don’t understand, it’s not like that!”

“No? Then what is it like? The way you described it made me out to be just the best option.”

“No! It’s not like that at all, would you stop?” Sirius was panicking. It wasn’t meant to go like this. He didn’t know how to explain that this was something he’d probably always felt, always wanted, and the revelation was scaring him as much as it appeared to be angering Remus. “I’m sorry! I don’t know how to say it, I just, you just, I don’t want you because you’re the best option, I want you because it feels right to fall asleep next to you, and it felt right to kiss you at the bar that night, and it feels right to not have to let someone in who could walk all over my heart because I know you’d never do that. Everything about being with you feels right, but it took you telling me you think you might be gay to make me even think about this stuff in the first place!”

Remus just stared. And then he picked up his jacket off the back of the chair and without looking at Sirius, said sort of shakily, “Okay. I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back soon.”

And then he left. He walked out the door, and Sirius just stood, staring at it as Remus’ footsteps died away on the stairs. 

Minutes ticked by, with Sirius just standing, looking at the last thing in the apartment Remus had touched, the offending door staring back at him. 

And then something inside him flipped. Suddenly so angry at himself that he literally scared Remus out of the room, he spun wildly around, gave the side of the couch a kick with his heel that sent it scudding backwards on the floorboards. He threw the cushions from it at the wall, hitting with a dull thud, one of them careering into the umbrella still sitting jauntily in the corner, sending it toppling over.

An empty mug sat on the table, and Sirius flew at it, picked it up and hurled it at the opposite wall, where it flew into dozens of pieces with a smash, hitting the clock and sending that falling to the ground, shattering the glass and knocking loose the minute hand. Choking sobs were forcing their way out of Sirius’ throat now, and his eyes blurred with tears. 

Angry, so angry that he’d fucked it all up, Sirius picked up the ugly chair and sent it flying at the bench, bouncing off it and breaking with a splintering crack as the back snapped away. Sirius stood, panting in the centre of chaos, and James’ words from only days ago snapped back into his head. “Why do you always feel the need to make messes?”

Sirius didn’t know. The tears kept falling down his cheeks, Remus’ face playing back over and over in his head, wide-eyed and leaving out the door because Sirius had followed through with a stupid thought that had the potential to ruin everything, ruin the Marauders, ruin years of a friendship he was just beginning to see he couldn’t live without. 

And so Sirius dropped to the floor, sobs wracking his body as he shifted form, leaving a big black dog standing where he’d been. The dog hung his head, turned tail and ran to the furthest corner of the apartment, the back of the wardrobe in the bedroom. He lay down, head on his paws, and the big dog cried, great, body-wracking doggy sobs that came out as whines and whimpers as he lay there, repeating over and over and over in his fuzzy doggy brain, “please come back, please come back, please come back, please come back, please come back.”

It must have been an hour that Padfoot lay there, wheezing and shuddering, occasionally letting out a whine that, to anyone listening, would have sounded like his heart was breaking. Maybe it was.

The sound of the door opening went unnoticed to Padfoot, lying alone in the back of the wardrobe. It wasn’t until the door of the wardrobe creaked open and Remus stood there, white faced and so relieved to have found him that Padfoot looked up. 

Remus fell to his knees and grabbed the dog by the scruff of the neck, pulling him out of the wardrobe and towards him and wrapping cold arms around the dog’s shaking body, pulling him onto his lap. The dog was much too big to sit on a lap, but Remus gathered him up and held him close, and Padfoot dropped his head onto Remus’ shoulder and closed his eyes.

He came back, he came back, he came back, he came back.

“Sirius, change back.” Remus’ voice was shaking, and when the dog wriggled away to stand on shaking legs in front of him, he could see tears on Remus’ lashes.

Sirius changed back, and Remus reached for him immediately, pulling him back against him and holding him there like he’d held the dog. Sirius let himself be held, unsure of anything except the relief that Remus had come back.

“Sirius,” Remus breathed, and couldn’t hide the sob that choked out of his throat. “God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know how that must have seemed, me leaving, and you, what you did to the flat, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Sirius didn’t say anything, he just let Remus rock him back and forwards, sitting there on the floor with his face buried in Remus’ shoulder.

Eventually he pulled away. “Why did you go?” When he spoke, his voice was croaky and sore, and Remus closed his eyes. 

“I panicked. There’s a lot of stuff that’ll make sense when I tell you, but of course wouldn’t have made any at all when I left. God, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

Sirius just nodded and waited. 

“Sirius, I think I’ve been a little bit in love with you since the moment I met you. You’re sort of everything I’m not, and for, well, forever, I thought it was just jealousy. But then I realized, the other night after you kissed me, that instead of wanting to be you, I just wanted to have you. Does that make sense?”

“No,” Sirius replied.

“Of course I sort of accepted the only way to have you would be as a friend, and after a couple of days I discovered I was okay with that. I was the one you’d come to when James was being a prat, or when Peter was being a pain, or when your parents were giving you a rough time. Although I didn’t know the reason when it happened, I suppose that’s why I was so upset that you went to James when they kicked you out, and not me. I wanted to be there for you, and it killed me a little that you chose James. Which of course you did, you’re basically each other’s other half.”

Sirius felt like he’d used up all of his emotions, because as he listened to Remus talk, although he knew he should be feeling something, he didn’t know what it was. Mostly, he just didn’t feel anything.

Remus went on. “You didn’t know I was upset, of course. We didn’t see each other, we didn’t even write for almost months. But then, the drunk thing happened, and it made me think, and the idea was terrifying. How much does it fuck up a friendship when it turns into unrequited love? So I tried to just push that to the back of my mind. You said you did it all the time, hooking up with people, of course it didn’t mean anything to you. And then you, you complete idiot, tell me that you want to be with me.”

They sat, looking at each other for a second or two, and Remus shook his head.

“And that’s why I left. I’d spent the last week convincing myself it wasn’t an option. And then, well, the way you phrased it…”

Sirius nodded, starting to feel something other than numbness sink into his body again. His foot hurt from kicking the couch, his cheeks were raw from the salty tears, and his brain was just… tired. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that, if you’re serious, then yes, I think we’d be good together too.”

And with that, Remus reached out a hand to stroke Sirius’ hair, pulling his head towards him and placing a kiss on his forehead. 

“And I’m sorry.”

Sirius crawled the little distance between them so he was almost sitting in Remus’ lap again, and tucked his head into his shoulder, arms circling his waist. 

“I know,” he said quietly. “You should be.”

They sat like that for a while, Remus stroking Sirius’ hair and Sirius breathing in the smell of Remus’ shirt and trying to get his head around what had happened. He felt like he was dreaming, like he’d fallen asleep in the wardrobe and Remus was still not home and this was all unreal. 

“Are you ok?” Remus asked, and Sirius nodded a little against his shoulder, and sat up.

“I’m sorry I broke the living room,” he whispered, and Remus gave him a small smile. 

“We can fix it.”

“Can we do it now? I don’t want James or Peter coming home to that.”

“Yeah, we can do it now,” Remus said quietly, and carefully stood up. He held out a hand to Sirius, who took it and stood up too. He didn’t let go of the hand. 

They walked together out into the main room, and Sirius felt a little sick to look at it. The smashed cup fragments were all over the floor, the clock was still ticking earnestly away with one hand where it had fallen, and the umbrella was lying miserably on its side. The couch, cushions everywhere, was askew and very out of place, Remus’ book still lying, open to the right page, upon it.

Remus looked around, and shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have left. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Sirius said again, squeezing his hand. 

Taking a deep breath, Remus nodded and carefully extracted his hand from Sirius’. “You can have it back in a minute,” he said, trying for a smile.

Sirius nodded. “I know.”

 

They cleaned up in silence. Remus levitated the pieces of smashed mug into a pile and vanished them. He picked up the clock and hung it back on the wall, reattaching the minute hand. The clock ticked happily, and Remus moved it back to being half an hour slow. 

Sirius pushed the couch back to where it was before, and put the cushions on it again. He carefully picked up Remus’ book and put it on the table, page folded down to mark his spot, and then he put the umbrella up again. 

Then he went over to the counter, and sadly picked up a shard of the ugly chair.

He turned forlornly to Remus and held it up. “My ugly chair.”

Remus smiled sadly. “I’ve fixed it once, I can do it again.”

And he did. Remus lifted his wand, whispered the incantation, and the pieces floated weightlessly around, spinning in a circle, closer and closer until the chair was in one piece, spinning around in the air, complete and still the ugly shade of green. Remus let his concentration and his wand drop, and the chair dropped to the floor, spinning a couple of times on the wood before coming to rest. 

Sirius felt like he was going to cry again.

Remus smiled sadly at him. “We need to talk about it, I suppose.” 

“I know.”

“It was a shock, Sirius. That’s all. It all escalated so fast I just had to think. I didn’t leave because the idea of being with you scared me. I mean, it does, but the idea of spending any length of time around you sort of scares me. Not for that reason, though.” 

Sirius gave him a half smile, and Remus went on. “I want to be with you. Obviously. But I don’t want it if it’s just… and experiment. If all I am is a test, or a phase, then I don’t want that. I’d rather pretend none of this ever happened. I don’t know how we’d do that, but I don’t want to get hurt. Who ever wants to get hurt? But I’ll risk it, you know. If you can tell me you actually want this, then I’ll risk it.”

Sirius nodded. “I do. I do want it. And you know I can’t promise that I’ll want it forever, that’s a fucking stupid promise because who knows what’s going to happen, who knows where we’ll all be in 10 years, but I do know that I want it now. I want you now, and really, you’ve been around for the better half of my life, literally, and we haven’t got sick of each other yet. I don’t see that changing.”

“Yeah,” Remus smiled. “Me either.”

Sirius didn’t really know what to do next.

Remus put the kettle on.

They sat down at the table, and after a minute Remus handed him a mug of tea.

“We’re going to turn into tea, soon,” Sirius said.

“It wouldn’t be so bad,” Remus replied.

“We could call you tea-mus,” Sirius suggested mournfully, and Remus almost inhaled the tea up his nose. Sirius looked at the clock. “Is it really only half past 12?” 

“No, I, uh, put it back half an hour.”

“Oh. Good. I liked it better that way. I’d gotten used to it,” Sirius said.

“It’s one in the morning,” Remus murmured, looking dismayed at the realization.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Sirius asked.

“Do you?” 

Sirius shrugged. “I don’t really want to sleep.”

“We can stay and talk, if you want.” 

There was a pause, both of them sipping their tea, Sirius thinking.

“Will anything much change? If we’re together, I mean.”

Remus had considered that. “I don’t think it will. I mean, we already do everything together. We already sleep in the same room majority of the year, for God’s sake we’re living together.”

“Except, we’ll be able to do the kissing thing. And the holding hands thing and the falling asleep on the couch together thing,” Sirius said quietly, smiling at Remus over his mug.

“Yeah. Yeah we can do all those things.”

“What about James and Pete?” Sirius said suddenly. “They, I mean, will that be weird?”

Remus shook his head, biting his lip. “I honestly don’t know. I guess we can only try.”

After a second, Sirius gave a snort of laughter. “You really drew all the short straws there, Rem. Gay teenage werewolf in love with your supposedly straight friend. How did you get up in the mornings?”

Remus gave a wry smile. “Sometimes, I wonder.”

“Maybe we should go to bed.” 

Remus stood and took Sirius’ empty mug, and placed it in the sink with his own. “Come on, bed then.”

He held out a hand and Sirius took it, and Remus pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him, and he felt Sirius take a long shaky breath. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“What for?” Sirius murmured back, and Remus sighed. 

“Just, thank you for having a gay epiphany.”

Sirius huffed a laugh. “You’re welcome. Now come on, let’s go to bed.”

“I’ll see you in the morning then,” Remus said, releasing Sirius and moving towards the couch, but Sirius grabbed the back of his shirt.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh. Oh, okay,” Remus said, happiness spreading over his features. Sirius stepped closer and placed a kiss on Remus’ nose, standing on tiptoe to reach, and then took his hand and pulled him into the bedroom.

Remus slipped into his pajamas and then turned to see that Sirius had already buried into the covers. He climbed onto the bed and wriggled into it on the other side, and smiled to himself when Sirius turned over and moved closer, throwing an arm over Remus’ waist and pressing his nose against his shoulder. 

“Apparently it was unnecessary, making the bed bigger,” Remus joked tiredly, and Sirius gave a happy little sound of agreement. And then they were asleep.

 

The morning brought sun, surprisingly, which poured through the little window in the bedroom to settle on Remus’ face. Sirius woke to see it, and stared for a while at the way the light caught the angles on Remus’ face. Remus woke soon after to find Sirius staring at him.

“Have you been doing that long?” he asked wryly, and Sirius grinned. 

“Yeah, ages.” With a huff, Remus rolled over. The bed sheets were pulled mostly onto Sirius’ side as usual, so he yanked them back over. He was a bit too forceful though, and they all came piling onto his side, leaving Sirius with nothing. Sirius let out a noise halfway between a grunt and a shriek and wiggled his way onto Remus’ side to press up against him under the stolen blanket. 

They lay in bed for hours, Sirius talking and Remus listening. Sirius talked about his parents, and about the cat they’d had when he was little. About the first time he’d ridden a broom, and the first time he’d kissed a girl. He told him about how he’d lied to James when he’d first arrived, told him he’d never done anything more than smoking, but it wasn’t true because once he’d taken some pills from a guy behind a nightclub because the girl he was with told him he wouldn’t. The girl had laughed, let him feel her up behind the club, and then left when he started throwing up. 

Remus listened to everything. Some of it he knew, had known for years, but there was something captivating about the way Sirius talked, the way he would launch into a story and just keep rolling, facts and opinions and a few half-truths to keep the story alive, and Remus seemed content just to lay there and take it in. Of course, Sirius had always loved attention, and doubly so if it came from Remus.

They heard the door open out in the living room sometime late in the morning, when the sun had moved up past the window and into the sky. They heard footsteps coming towards the door, and Sirius withdrew his hand from where it had been tracing a pattern up Remus’ arm. The door swung open to reveal James, looking on top of the world. 

“Are you two seriously still in bed?” he asked, shaking his head and grinning.

Remus shrugged, and Sirius grinned. “What, jealous because you’re not?”

James just tapped the side of his nose. “And aren’t you meant to be at the garage?”

Sirius sighed. “Nope, Barney’s got a dentist appointment. We’re shut until 1.”

James ducked his head out the door and then popped it back in again. “Well, it’s only half eleven.”

“Uh, no, it’s half an hour slow,” Remus corrected, and James frowned.

“Thought we fixed it?”

Sirius looked away as Remus replied. “Sirius likes it better like that.”

James just raised an eyebrow and then left them alone. Sighing, Sirius heaved himself out of the bed. “Don’t you get up, I just need a piss.”

“Eloquent as always,” Remus shot back, but curled back up into the sheet.

Sirius multitasked and brushed his teeth at the same time, and only dropped the toothpaste once. When he got back to the bedroom, Remus was stretched out like a cat in on the messy white sheet, hair golden in the warm light and pajama bottoms low on his hips, t-shirt riding up. Sirius stared.

“Well that’s hardly fair,” he said, and Remus frowned slightly. 

“What?”

“You’re not allowed to look that adorable and sleep in my bed. Oh, no wait, you are,” Sirius grinned, and then crawled his way across the bed. Remus was about to sit up but Sirius put a hand on his hip and pushed him back down again, and then as Remus opened his mouth to say something, leaned down pressed his lips against the other boy’s mouth. Remus made a slight ‘oomph’ but didn’t push him away. They kissed lazily for a few minutes, Sirius moving to sit across Remus’ hips, and Remus’ hands coming to sit on Sirius’ thighs. The sound of James clearing dishes out in the lounge made Sirius pull away, grinning at the way Remus’ hair was sticking up and his lips looked pinker than usual. It was definitely better when he knew he’d remember it the next day, Sirius thought.

“Hi,” Sirius laughed, and Remus licked his lips and smirked back. 

“Hi.”

“Wanna stay in bed all day?” Sirius asked, and Remus laughed. 

“Would if we could,” he replied. “You have to go to work.” 

“Did I tell you I now only work Tuesday Wednesday and Saturday at the bar now?”

“No! You didn’t, that’s great!” Remus beamed, and Sirius leant back in to kiss the smile off his face. It turned into another ten minutes, until Remus eventually pulled himself away and laughed. “Get up, you have to go soon.”

“I’ll only get up if you get up,” Sirius said, burrowing into the blankets and pulling them over his head like a cocoon. Remus snorted and pulled the blankets off him, and then got out of bed himself. 

“There, I’m up.” Sirius raised a petulant head and slowly uncurled. 

“You’re mean,” he grumbled, and Remus just smiled sweetly and patted him on the butt as he walked out the door. Sirius tried very hard not to smile. 

It was a little weird being around Remus around other people now, Sirius thought. James had stationed himself at the table with a piece of toast, a jar of jam, and a spoon, which he was using to eat the jam right out of the jar. Remus wrinkled his nose but didn’t say anything, and Sirius grabbed a spoon. Sirius watched Remus as he moved around the kitchen, and asked James about his night. James told them, in great detail, how he and Lily had fallen asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, and it was awfully romantic, and I really think she’s the one, Sirius, I really do, you know what I mean? Don’t you Remus?

And Remus had smiled softly and caught Sirius’ eye and said, “Not a clue.”

When Sirius finally got to the garage that morning, he was still grinning a mile wide. 

“What’s gone right in your life, sonny?” Barney asked, and Sirius just shrugged.

“Just a nice day to be alive,” he replied, and Barney squinted at him, shaking his head.

The bike was almost done, and as Sirius quietly mended the last part out of view of Barney, his mind wandered into a dream where he and Remus were speeding through the streets of London on the bike, and then, as they turned into a dead end alley, the bike soared into the sky and flew up and over the wall and away into the night. Footsteps made him guiltily put down his wand and nudge it under a rag as Barney came up.

“What’ve you got there, lad?” he asked, and Sirius held up the finished piece.

“My uncle knows a guy,” he lied. “This came last night.”

Barney leant in close and nodded approval. “Aye, that’ll be your last piece then.”

He watched as Sirius put the piece into place, screwing on the cover plate and then wiping his hands on his knees.

“Wow. It’s done,” he said in awe, and like he’d done so often, ran his hand over the smooth seat.

“Well, start her up,” Barney said, and Sirius tentatively slid onto the seat and kicked her into life. She ran beautifully, shuddering a little at first but then purring and revving as Sirius gave it some stick. 

“Do you know how to ride ‘er?” Barney asked, and Sirius, sadly, shook his head. Barney raised his eyebrows. 

“Don’t look so forlorn, boy, it ain’t hard. I’ll teach ye, and you can go for your license.”

Doubtful, thought Sirius. It’d be easy enough to forge. But he let Barney direct him as he sat in the seat and learnt all the controls. Gears were easy enough, brake, accelerator, Sirius thought he could pick it up in no time. When Barney suggested he take her slowly down the street, Sirius grinned.

After a couple of slow circuits around the block, Sirius wheeled her back into the garage, a giant smile on his face, and Barney clapped him on the back.

“Son, you’ve done well.” Sirius thought it was ironic that the first time he heard those words, they weren’t from the mouth of his father.

He walked home with the sun still streaming down on his back, and realized, for the first time that he’d stopped to think about it, that he was happy. Actually happy. He wanted to scream and shout about Remus, and the bike, and the sun and the apartment, and James and Lily, and Peter and the ugly chair, so many that he felt like he was going to explode with goodness. And he wasn’t worried, like he had been so many times before, that it would end in tears. Right at that moment, he just didn’t care. It’s nice to know, he thought, that it is possible to be this happy. Something to remember, and to look forward to again.

The flat, when he opened the door, was bathed in a warm honey glow as the late afternoon sun streamed in through the window. Under the umbrella sat a stag, and on the couch sat two boys in fits of laughter. The stag was wearing a pair of pants on one antler and had Sirius’ jacket draped over the other. Sirius gave a bark of laughter and launched himself at the stag, who stumbled to its feet and took off around the flat, Sirius in pursuit of his jacket. Peter and Remus were laughing so hard they were crying as the stag careered around the room, knocking over chairs and bumping into the table as Sirius lunged at the jacket and tried to keep up. Eventually the stag collapsed in a heap on the ground and morphed back into James, sitting on the floor clutching his stomach with laughter. Sirius scooped his jacket up from off the ground and flung it over a chair, and then had the urge to do something stupid.

He grabbed Remus’ hand and pulled him to his feet, and said, “I have an announcement, I’m in love with Remus.”

James looked at him, and laughed harder, and Peter didn’t seem to have heard.

Remus was trying to pull his hand away and whispering, “No, Sirius, what are you doing-”

“No, really, I’m in love with Remus and he doesn’t seem to mind, and we’d really like it if you’d be cool about it.”

Still nothing but laughter from James and Peter, so Sirius rolled his eyes and turned to pull Remus’ head down to his and kissed him. Both Peter and James stopped laughing, and stared. Sirius pulled away and took a deep breath.

“So are we cool?”

“Wait, you mean you’ve both actually figured it out?” James asked, still looking confused. “You’re not kidding?”

“What? Figured what out?” Sirius frowned. 

“That Remus is in love with you, git,” James replied, looking at Sirius like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Remus groaned. Sirius stared at James. Then he stared at Remus. “What?”

“It’s not like either of you are subtle about it,” Peter put in, and both Remus and Sirius turned to stare at him, and then at James, and then back at each other.

“What?” they both said, again.

“God, you’re both dumber than we thought,” James said, sighing. “We know you’re in love with each other, unlike you two we’re not complete idiots. Fuck Sirius, Remus has been mooning, excuse the pun, over you for years, and you turn into the biggest show off of all time when he’s around. I know that feeling mate, I have it with Lily. Peter has it with that, ahem, large Ravenclaw girl (“Hey!”) who smiles at him in the hallway on the way to potions. We know. We don’t care.”

Sirius and Remus gaped at James, and he just raised his eyebrows and waited. Nobody said anything for a while, until Sirius took a deep breath and said quietly, “Why did you not tell me?”

“Because, mate, this is one you clearly had to figure out on your own. To be honest, we didn’t know if you ever would.”

Nodding, Sirius didn’t say anything else, and then he felt Remus’ hand slipping into his. 

“Thanks, guys,” Remus said.

Sirius smiled. “How long have you been waiting to use that pun?”

“Fucking years, mate,” James grinned back.

 

Two weeks later, James bursts into the flat holding a paint tin and 4 brushes to find Sirius and Remus kissing up against the bench in the kitchen, and Peter throwing darts at the makeshift dart board that Sirius had drawn on the wall a few nights before. The flat looks different now, one wall painted bright yellow, another a deep purple with splatters of the yellow flicked all over. Remus had tried to turn them into stars, but then Sirius had started throwing splatters just for fun and so Remus gave up. There are 3 more ugly chairs, painted in varying shades of purple and yellow, and a very retro looking bean bag residing under the umbrella. They even have plates, and a fuller-than usual pantry thanks to Peter’s aunt and her love of grocery shopping. 

James holds up the tin and says, “Look! Green!” Peter turns to him still holding the dart aloft, and James swings the paint tin in front of his face and says, “Jesus, Pete, throw it and then turn,” and then, “And you two, for God’s sake, would you stop.” Remus and Sirius break away from each other, and only Remus has the decency to look guilty.

“Green is going to clash astonishingly well with the purple,” he says, and Sirius laughs. 

“Perfect, then.” James looks proud. 

Sirius is still working a few nights a week at the bar, and he goes to the garage when he’s bored. Which isn’t often when Remus is around. The beautiful bike sits outside on the street next to the phone box, a disillusionment charm keeping it hidden from anyone passing. With the other three to help, he’s figured out how to make it fly, and he and Remus sneak out occasionally and fly it over London, Sirius whooping and laughing and Remus clutching Sirius’ waist, hands gripping the leather of his jacket and staring down in awe at the lights. In no time at all they’ll be back to school, running through the halls and acting more like 3rd years than 7th, and Sirius will wonder why he ever thought being on his own could be better than this. And James will smile as Sirius catches Remus by the waist and pulls him in for a kiss, and at the same time send Severus’ books skidding off the desk with a flick of his wand, and think to himself that, really, saving Sirius was the best thing he ever did.


End file.
